


The Listener

by ellevetica



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Zac Hanson, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Smut, Zac is Deaf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-07-08 23:25:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 59,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19877809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellevetica/pseuds/ellevetica
Summary: Originally posted on my LiveJournal in 2012 -Work is long but unfinished.Zac suffers severe hearing damage at age 12 at the infamously loud Canada's Wonderland appearance. Over the years as his hearing deteriorates, the bond between Taylor and Zac grows into something neither can expect.





	1. The Listener - Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a finished work though it is dead at 70 chapters and basically covers what the plot needed to   
> If you wish to read the completed version faster than I update please let me know in the comments & I’ll contact you

Beneath a dark blanket of twinkling stars, the gravel crunches beneath the tires of my white Range Rover. The headlights paint the trees in a haunting glow and I pause for a moment, casting my eyes out onto the lake behind the old cabin and sigh. We're here. Just as soon as I've yanked the parking brake into place, he's out of the car. I pause for a moment in mid reach for my seat belt and choose to just watch him instead.

He's childlike, as he races down the familiar steps and they shake and cry out beneath his clumsy steps. My eyes wash over him and I smile as he turns back to look at the car, to see if I'm coming. Brown eyes, young and full of delight as he watches me with an infectious grin. I push the door open and pull in a greedy breathof the flavourful pine air. I follow the path in the nearly pitch black darkness, feeling the crisp breathe that dances over the sparkling, endless water and leaves a few goosebumps on my skin as it disappears again. The sound of gentle waves lapping at a rocky shore are the only sounds that I hear as I meet him on the steps. I have the key, attached to my car keys, and I unlock the door, feeling it stick a little with age as I try and push it open to let us in.

The old cottage is a little musty, but it's one of those scents that I love anyway, because it's full of memories. He doesn't seem to see the layer of dust that has gathered from a long winter away, nor does he notice the crack that divides the huge bay window that faces the lake in the living room. The perfectionist in me notices it all, and the the stain on the couch, the fireplace that we never got around to cleaning... I feel my heart speed up and I take a deep breath. There's plenty of time to clean, it doesn't have to be done tonight. I look back to Zac and give him a smile. This is our place, a place to enjoy for what it is, because it's the only place we can be truly alone, truly together.

It used to belong to our parents, and on paper, I believe it still does. It's one of those little details that we never really did sort out. The moment they handed us the keys, we knew it was ours. It hadn't been theirs for many years before they'd decided to consider selling it. When they finally anounced that they were going to put a for sale sign on it's lawn and wait and see, the look on Zac's face was heart breaking. They showed him pictures of the new "cottages" they were looking at buying, Zac just shook his head, they weren't the same.

I took mom and dad aside later, and asked them how much money they wanted to get for the cottage, knowing that Zac and I both had money in our bank accounts from the band that once made us millions. Despite not playing any longer, the money remained, we'd been comfortable for years. My parents were surprised that we wanted it at all, but what was more surprising, was the way they pushed the keys into my hand without another word. It was one of the nicest things they'd ever done for us.

Even though the old cottage was rustic, and a forty minute drive from the nearest grocery store, with no cable, it was perfect for us. Zac and I held onto memories here that our brother and parents had seemingly let slip away, building new ones in the brand new cottage they'd bought instead. But as kids, this cottage was the place of everyone's dreams. My two brothers and I would be inseperable at the old cottage, a friendship forged silently, wordlessly, the way brothers do. Differences between us would be forgotten, and though Zac and I had always been close, the same could not be said for Isaac. As kids, sure, we all got along, but eventually Isaac grew tired of us kid brothers as most older brothers do. But at the cottage, things were different. Hot summer days spent tearing over soft dirt under a canopy of leafy trees, racing and playing games, maybe chasing each other with Super Soakers or Nerf guns. When we'd get too hot, we'd throw ourselves into the icy lake water, never seeming to notice the cold the way we did now.

As we got older, we started spending less time at the cottage. Between being too busy with the band, and then the accident, things changed, lives shifted, and the place of dreams had become something that existed only when I slept, in my dreams. Isaac moved out of our home first, with his new wife Nikki and soon after, the twins were born. When Zac and I moved out a couple years later, when he was nineteen, they sold our house , and moved to the town up north where the new cottage was. I didn't ever consider it a cottage, but they did. It was nowhere near the old one, with a much shorter drive into the nearest town, and a corner store just minutes down the road. They had a satelite with five hundred channels, and wifi that could be picked up in the boat house that rivalled the old cottage in size itself. Isaac and Nikki appreciated the extra room for their young family, with the young twin boys, but Zac and I never really felt comfortable there.

Leaving the dirty cottage and my thoughts of cleaning behind, I follow him out, but I don't think he notices, as he lets the door slam in my face. I can't help but roll my eyes, and I don't think he's noticed me as I follow him down the steps, hearing them creak and groan painfully beneath me. Walking across the dock, I feel the familiar shifting of the loose boards beneath my feet. They've been wiggling since I was a young boy, and certainly more now, but I naiively trust them to keep me from an icy plunge into the lake.

Kneeling on the edge, I dip my fingers into a gentle wave of nearly black water. I shiver, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the flash of his smile - he's smirking as he watches me.

"Cold?" He asks, even though he knows what the answer is already.

"A little." I say, standing up and watching as he give me another wide, playful grin before digging his fingers into the hem of his faded t shirt and yanking it over his head.

He's crazy, I'd tell him that, but there's no sense, nor any stopping what he's about to do. It's a bit of a tradition he has, and I fear the wrath for anyone that try to get between he and it. He can never seem to help himself, tonight is no exception as I watch him yank the leather belt from his khaki shorts and then push them down his legs with his underwear, a crumpled pile of clothes at his ankles and all that remains is my brother, in all of his naked glory and a smile. I shake my head half heartedly and try to avoid looking at his midsection, knowing that the distraction isn't something I need when there is a trunk full of bags and supplies to unpack.

"You're nuts." I say quietly.

He ignores me, giving me on last grin before running towards the edge of the dock. The wood shakes and jolts beneath him, and then there's a great splash. He cries out and I watch as he flaps around playfully in the icy water.

"Water's great." He lies through chattering teeth, swimming close to the dock and looking up at me with a wide smile.

"Bull." I tell him knowingly, but smiling as I fold my arms over my chest.

He doesn't say anything and I watch in silence as he splashes away. It's all so familiar, even though circumstances could not be further from what they once were. I remember a time when we'd all be out there, splashing in the water while my parents watched from the dock. I stood alone now, watching as he swam by himself.

Other things haven't changed a bit - one of which, is the view. A thick wall of trees surrounds the little channel of lake, a larger bay visible in the distance between the edges of two islands. A few other cottages dot the shore in the distance, but ours is the only one left for miles on this road.

I watch him swim for a few more silent moments, enjoying the peace of the blackened sky and the gentle sounds of the water.

"I need to unpack the car." I finally say to him when I am sure I have his attention, making sure that he's close enough that he can see me as I speak.

He doesn't say anything, but I decide to turn away anyway and head up the stairs. Light fills the tiny cottage with a yellow glow and i resist staring too long at the gathered dust or the crack in the window. Those things can wait, or at least, that's what he'd say.

By the time I'm carrying my third load from the back of my Range Rover, he's joined me, towelling his hair in the middle of the kitchen. His body is dripping onto the old linoleum, still naked, save the black towel slung around his waist. When his hair is dry enough, he tosses the towels onto the couch instead of hanging them up and races to the bedroom to change into the clothes I've already brought inside. He joins me when he's finished, and before long, we have everything inside and put away. It's not without effort though, and despite it being night time, the air is still hot, and we've worked up a sweat.

Walking to the fridge, I yank the old door open and reach inside, thankful for the ice I'd stocked the cooler with. It was meant to keep the milk and eggs and other important food cold, but there had been enough room for a few beers, and I was thankful for the bounty that the gesture had awarded me with as I closed my fingers around two icy bottle necks.

Carrying both, I meet him at the back door. The stairs creek again beneath our feet, and the water is lapping at the dock in gentle waves. Two chairs sit at the glass table, waiting for us, and I brush mine off before sitting. He doesn't bother, but I don't bother to say anything as I pass him one of the bottles.

The boat house sits to the left of us, and inside, there are more chairs stacked, in the unlikely case that someone is to visit. Isaac and Nikki brought the kids once, but the lack of cable left the boys bored, and the lack of internet made Nikki restless, unable to check her emails from work. They left a day early, and they haven't been up since, but we don't mind the solitude, nor the lack of technology that was such a deal breaker for them.

We find other things to do. He likes to swim, and I enjoy losing myself in the pages of a book on the dock or under one of the trees in the forest that surrounds our little dwelling. Sometimes I take my camera into the same forest, and take too many pictures of things I find interesting - there are always a multitude. At night, we have a peaceful compromise. Either inside, snuggled up on the couch enjoying a movie, or out on the dock, the way we are now.

A black silence surrounds us, the night is calm, and I look to him, watching as he takes a sip from his bottle. I do the same, feeling myself sigh as I swallow, allowing my eyes to wander over him. He's lost. My eyes follow the outlines of his face, studying the way his eyes are focused on something in the distance. Out on the water, I look around, unsure of what he sees. There are no boats on the waters surface, no jumping fish or ducks paddling lazily by the way they do when the sun is shining.

I look back at him. He's surrounded by peace, leaning back in his chair and simply enjoying the way he's lost himself in the night. I can't help but wonder what he's thinking when he's so lost in himself, in this silence.

The call of an owl causes me to flinch. Zac, of course, is still as stone, not stirring. I'm aware, very aware, suddenly, of every little thing. The buzz of mosquitos, thick in the warm air, the smell of sweet pine and the feel of the cool breeze that carries it. Above me, a pair of large, dark wings fly overhead and then there is another haunting call. I reach over and nudge my brother, gesturing towards the sky. Finally, he sees, and his mouth becomes a smile as he watches the great bird fly away. It gets smaller and smaller, until the tiny figure has disappeared into the blackness all together.

And he's disappeared again too. I watch him for a moment before turning my eyes towards the choppy waves, watching as they wash over the rocky shore and lap at the dock. Five minutes pass in silence, and then ten. I look at him again and smile a little, able to enjoy how peaceful he is here. The silence between us is often vast, and there is so much time spent between us without saying a single word. It's not that we don't have anything to talk about, because other times, we can talk non-stop for hours. I could, have and will continue, to tell him everything and anything. But that bond, has made us comfortable in silence in a way that others would probably find unnerving.

Not us. The quietness, the silence, is something that Zac has taught me to appreciate. In contrast, hearing, listening, is just one of the other things that Zac has taught me to appreciate.

And that's because Zac is deaf.


	2. The Listener - Chapter One

Title: The Listener (Working title, subject to change)  
Part: One  
Genre: Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV: Taylor  
Rating: PG-13 – Some mentions of adult/sexual content (barely) and some language.  
Warnings: Not much for this chapter.  
Word Count: 2464

Zac hasn't always been deaf, and even now, he has a hearing aid that grants him a limited amount of hearing. I can never truly appreciate the difference between the false hearing he is offered, and the authentic hearing that he lost, but I believe him when he tells me that it's just not the same. He says there is some sort of delay, and of course, it lacks a certain crispness that I have a hard time imagining.  
Because of these things, Zac chooses to rarely wear them, usually only in public or when he's around people that don't know him very well. Zac is extremely proficient at reading lips, mine especially, but he's able to at least follow most conversations that he finds himself a part of. At first, I was amazed at how easily he learned to study the shapes that my mouth made, and it was soon obvious that as long as he could see me, he could “hear” me.

While most deaf people speak with a very obvious impediment, Zac's words are almost flawless. Having been eleven when the accident occurred, when his hearing started to fade away, he retained the use of speech he already knew from so many years of hearing. As years slipped by, and his hearing diminished to almost nothing at all, his voice began to change a little bit, and the way he sounded changed also. Some words began to have an 'accent' of sorts, the way he said them, and when someone misunderstood him, he became so flustered. That was when Zac started to become more quiet, and even though I have never had a problem understanding him, I can sympathize for his self consciousness.

Sometimes, when people meet Zac for the first time, they don't initially realize he is deaf. He follows conversations so easily, nodding and following along, inserting a careful word here and there, most assume he is just quiet. The reactions that come when the truth is revealed, are what Zac dreads the most. Some people are shocked, “He doesn't seem like most deaf people!” they say, and I began to wonder, the more times I heard it – what they meant by that. Deaf isn't the definition of Zac, he's still Zac, how is he supposed to be now that he can't hear? Why should his value change? Those statements don't bother Zac as much as the people that pity, him though. Being felt sorry for, that is the last thing that Zac wants these days.

Unfortunately, people feeling sorry for him, is just something that happens, and quite often. Whether Zac likes it or not. But what they don't understand, what they can't understand, is that Zac spent such a long time feeling sorry for himself, that he's had enough of it. For two years, we lost Zac into a darkness, the time that his hearing was slipping away, more and more, seemingly, with each passing day. He became depressed, a shadow of himself, as he lost the things he found comfort in before – music, especially, broke his heart to give up.

From pop star, to no-one, my brother slipped further and further away from us. Music had always been a common bond between my brothers and I. Our differences separated us, both in childhood and now, with our differing personalities, came a wide range of hobbies that not all of us favoured. Isaac found photography boring, the same way Zac couldn't stand to play pool the way Isaac could for hours. But music was a common denominator, childish fights and words we didn't mean to throw at each other, could be healed by putting on a familiar record. The music drew us together, we liked the same songs, listening to them over and over while we travelled with our fathers job to remote places where we often didn't have much to do except listen to music. As we began to learn the words, we began to sing along, and it was immediately obvious that not only were we talented, but we could use three part harmony to create beautiful versions of the songs we loved.

When we knew the songs well enough, our parents started finding places for us to perform. Small gigs, Christmas and other staff parties for dad's company, or performances at nursing homes. Later on, we'd add instruments, I would stick with piano, the three of us had taken lessons in it for a couple of years, but I was the most accomplished, it felt natural. Isaac was drawn to guitar, looking up to rock guitarists even then as idols. A dusty old drum kit was found in a friends attic, and Zac was drawn to it, convincing my wary parents that it was an obvious choice. And Zac took to it like a duck to water, keeping the beat from a young age was something that came naturally to him. A tiny figure behind a towering drum set, and two puny kids on guitar and keys, we were quite a sight, I'm sure.

As we became more accomplished with our instruments, the audiences at our shows started to grow. From a couple dozen, to a couple hundred. We started writing our very first songs, and the crowds roared when we introduced them. Not long after we recorded our first “album” on a cassette in our garage, we were asked to play at a Tulsa festival called May Fest. It was a big show, and we were nervous, but had we known who was in the audience that day, we probably would have been paralyzed with fear. We played the show, finding our confidence on stage and I remember the glow I felt when we finished the first song and the audience exploded with praise. I looked around at my brothers, finding their familiar eyes, and saw that the nervousness was gone from us all, especially Zac who was grinning and holding his drum sticks above his head. The show was a great success, and someone very important had thought so also. An executive from Mercury Records happened to be in the audience, and having hearing us play, quickly made phone calls back to the head office of the company before tracking my parents down to approach them with what would be our first contract.

Life seemed to change so quickly after that, as though the signing of that first piece of paper, had pressed a 'fast forward' button. Life flew by, as we packed up our instruments and all of the clothes we had, and flew to Los Angeles to start recording and writing the songs that would become our first album. Days in the studio were long, taking a toll on the youngest of us especially, Zac. It was hard for him to spend hours focused on one thing, he had always been a kid with a lot of energy, and when we were inside rehearsing, I knew he yearned to be outside playing. Childhood morphed into something else, we had so little time to be kids anymore, that I stopped feeling like one all together. I drank my first cup of coffee at age thirteen, swallowing it in greedy gulps as we set forth for another long day of writing.

Despite the hectic schedule, we loved what we were doing, and though life was changing, it was most obviously getting better. Every song we finished became an accomplishment, one step closer to the final goal of an entire album. When it was finished, we were remarkably proud of ourselves and the executives at the label seemed impressed as well, it was impossible not to be excited about what the future might hold. It was also impossible, however, to have predicted just how much more life was going to change after the first single, Mmmbop, was released.

It was surreal, seeing the name of the song that we, us brothers, had written two years prior, in our garage, on a singles chart with famous musicians. It just didn't sink in that we had achieved that. Hearing it on the radio was surreal too, it was awhile before I stopped checking if we were playing a tape in the deck or if it was really us coming through the Tulsa radio station. We had never dreamed of hearing ourselves on the radio, or holding a CD that had our names on it. Seeing myself on television when the music video was released was also a strange moment, and at first, I didn't even recognize myself. Truth be told, it's something that still feels a little weird for me to see, I never really did get used to it.

Not long after the single was released, the entire album hit stores, and it really started to close in. When we performed at the Paramus Park Mall, we assumed the packed parking lot must be for a sale. We never expected the mob that surrounded us when we entered, we weren't prepared for the screaming, the grabbing. Security guards had to drag us through the swell of guards, with Zac nearly having a panic attack as he was almost trampled. It was an eye opening experience for us, as we stood on the stage looking out at the seemingly endless sea of faces, it was overwhelming. I stared at them for several long moments before knowing quite what to say, how to start. But then it happened, the way it always did, the music started, and I was taken away to a place I knew. With the music surrounding me, almost like a protective shield, I was able to be myself on stage, and as the crowd roared, my anxiety turned to excitement, pride. With Zac clinging to the back of my shirt as we left to avoid being lost in the sea of screaming fans, it was when we realized that things were never going to be quite the same.

We went from being three brothers from the middle of nowhere, to being one of the most popular bands with a platinum selling album titled Middle of Nowhere. Life for us was never going to be the same, and at times, it was daunting. It wasn't easy, early mornings and long flights, longer days. I drank more and more coffee, despite the looks my parents gave me every time I brought a cup back to the tour bus or asked for one in a restaurant. They didn't let Zac drink it, but he didn't need it, with his seemingly endless energy. The energy that would be the bane of everyones patience some days. We had lives that even adults would find challenging, long interviews and performing several times a week. It was hard to be away from home, and it was hard to give up the life we had left there, despite everything that had come to us in the wake of our absence.

Money in the bank doesn't buy childhood happiness, and I could see the way it affected my younger brother, I could see the way he lost focus on things and yearned to be doing anything but sitting still. It came out in bouts of hyper-ness and silliness, his giggles interrupting interviews or making impressions that he didn't mean to. My mom came down on him particularly hard when he couldn't focus during work time, answering interviewers questions with sarcastic or silly answers that caused him to roar with laughter and pushed the patience of people who were accustomed to dealing with adults, not kids and teenagers.

I found time when I could, to do things with Zac that he enjoyed, things that had nothing to do with music. Lego's were the last thing that most pop-stars carried around, but Zac had a set that came everywhere with us, and despite being in the middle of puberty when most guys my age would be chasing girls, I loved spending time with my brother building things out of plastic blocks instead. I had enough girls thrown at me, and I didn't really know how to handle it, I've always been shy and modest, and even though these girls screamed how much they loved me, and how “cute” I was, I had a hard time understanding it, grasping it. Sure, the first time that one of them had flashed me, I'd gotten a hard-on and I couldn't help but stare, but I felt bad for Zac, who saw these things before he needed to, and watched the way it confused him. Isaac probably liked all the female attention the most, though unfortunately, Zac and I seemed to be the object of most fans desires.

Despite being worn out, we seemed to find a boundless amount of energy on stage. The way we felt when we played, hadn't changed. I still felt the same rush of adrenaline when I heard a crowd roar for me, and it had only been amplified as the crowds grew bigger, and bigger, and louder and louder. Ear plugs became a necessity, with monitors that allowed us to hear each other, but drained out most of the crowds. I didn't need to hear them, to feel their excitement though, and the way I felt after each and every show was a rush that nothing else could ever compare to. Travelling the world, what a rush it was to find fans that loved our music in every corner of the world. Seeing the things we saw was an experience that we were so lucky to be granted. Just years before, when I studied France in the home-school history books, I fell in love with the beauty of the country, and being able to be there myself just a couple of years later, was such a thrill. When we weren't playing shows or doing interviews, which did eat up about eighty percent of our time spent awake, we were able to explore, to do things we wanted, and be “normal teenagers” as best we could.

We arrived in Canada to play a show in Toronto at an amusement park on a hot, hot summer day. The park was tremendously busy, and from the huge line that stretched across seemingly half of the park to get into the outdoor amphitheatre, we knew it was going to be a big show. We anticipated a large, noisy crowd, but we never anticipated the way that the show would change all of our lives, especially Zac's.


	3. The Listener - Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains graphic sexual content - read at your own risk

Title: The Listener (Working title, subject to change)  
Part: Two  
Genre: Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV: Taylor  
Rating: NC-17  
Warnings: Graphic sexual situations. ;) Not gonna give anything else away.  
Authors Note: This chapter is set in 'present' tense (prologue), which is around present time now, but feel free to imagine the boys appearances the way you want. The chapters will alternate (maybe not always exactly 1:1) between present time, and Taylor's recollection of past events. It will be noted but pretty obvious anyway.  
Word Count: 3579

When the bugs get too thick and the spray-on repellant doesn't seem to be working anymore, we decide it's time to go inside. Leaving the black stillness of the night behind, I climb the stairs that lead back into the cottage, a silent goodnight to the frosty looking full moon before following him inside. I watch as he disappears down the hall towards our bedroom at the end, hear the bed creak beneath him as he tosses himself onto it. My body is tired, but there's that dirty feeling of a long day clinging to me, and I hate getting into a clean bed feeling grimy. So instead of heading for the bedroom with him, I make my way up the little wooden staircase that leads to the bathroom. It's the only elevated room in the cottage, the rest is a single level. The stairs creak and sway with each step I take, but like the dock, I trust them with in the naivety way that I've carried since childhood.

I let the water run for a few minutes, knowing that it hasn't been used since the cold, cold Thanksgiving weekend that we spent here. I pull off my clothes, a piece at a time, and leave them in a messy pile on the floor. There's a single towel left on the back of the door, and I leave it next to the shower. Stepping under the spray, I sigh as the hot water surrounds my body. It's not the best shower, with the most water pressure, but it feels good, regardless. Squirting some of my body wash into my palm, I start to cover myself in a thick lather of soap, waiting a moment before stepping under the spray. I wash my hair, and then already, the water is starting to cool down. I turn it off, the old tap squeaking as it finally relents and ceases it's spray. A breeze dances through the cracked window, and gooseflesh covers my skin as I reach for the waiting towel.

When I'm dry and my hair is as good as damp, I wrap the towel around my waist and pick up my pile of dirty laundry. I don't much like to wear clothes when I don't have to – especially at night when I'm about to climb into bed with my boyfriend. I pause in the kitchen, pulling the old fridge door open and pulling out a bottle of water that I'd share with him. I crept down the hall, dark with the exception of the trickle of yellow light seeping out from under the half-closed bedroom door. I chewed on my lip as I wondered what he was doing, feeling a familiar tingle in the pit of my chest and the knowing tug of my cock. I pushed the door open and only felt the burn grow hotter as my eyes crept over his form.

Zac was lying on his stomach, wearing only a pair of loose fitting grey boxer briefs, the swell of his full ass evident through the thin fabric and as my eyes lingered there, my cock grew harder. My eyes travelled, wandering down the muscled legs that were stretched out lazily behind him, one lifted casually as he buried himself in a book. He turned the pages so gingerly, and he was so absorbed that he hadn't noticed me come in. Of course, his hearing aids were out, but often, he had an intuitive sense and a feel for a shaking floor that would give my presence away. Not this time, this time he was devoted to the paper back he clutched in his hands, and I waited for a moment, just watching as he enjoyed himself and my eyes enjoyed exploring him a little more. Golden, sun kissed skin and thick muscles beneath his broad shoulders. I followed the slope of his back and my eyes wandered down to his mid section again, licking my lips as my cock twitched.

Sliding onto the bed as silently as I could, I slid my hand onto his thigh, feeling him jump beneath me as my fingers slid through the soft curly hair that covered his skin. Pressing my nose against his neck, I inhaled, he smelled fresh, like the lake, but a hint of something spicy – my cologne, lingered as well. I smiled as my lips found his ear lobe and I felt him tremble. Sometimes, the silence was a blessing, it caused everything else to be amplified, and I felt him tremble hard as I kissed the skin beneath his ear. He sucked in a quick breath, a tiny moan falling from his lips as I allowed my teeth to nibble the skin – one last silent question, to be sure he was really in the mood.

Without words, we found other ways to communicate, and this was one of the ways. Zac's ears were one of his most sensitive areas, and a tiny nudge from my nose or kiss from my mouth there almost always elicit this sort of response – a positive answer to a question I was asking without words. Did he want me?

With another loud groan, he rolled over and his arms wrapped around me, pulling him close to me. The answer was definitely yes, and as his hands roamed over my back, I trembled as I settled on top of him, his brown eyes finding mine in a steady gaze. The curl of his thick, kissable lips in a tiny, knowing smile and the way his hands felt, warm but a little calloused, rough, as they traveled down my sides, over my ribs and I trembled. I took a deep breath before leaning down and finding his mouth again, pulling the lower swell of his mouth into mine and allowing my tongue to wash over it as his fingers slipped down my sides and landed on the towel, which was already falling away.

He seemed to be in a bit of a hurry, and while I liked taking it slow with Zac, able to enjoy every single amplified moment, loving every sound he made, I didn't mind if he was eager. My cock hardened as he pulled the thick fabric away, and his eyes moved to my crotch, his skin turning a darker shade as I heard a tiny whimper fall from his mouth. While Zac was usually nervous about speaking, especially without his hearing aids, when it came to moments like this, things were very, very different. Unable to hear himself, made Zac bold, and every little sound was like ecstasy to me as they rained from his mouth.

There were so many sounds that he made, as I allowed my mouth to wander from his mouth, crossing his jaw and listening as he whimpered quietly. A hot trail of kisses criss-crossed his neck, moving further down his golden, warm skin and feeling him quiver, hearing his sharp breaths and loving every little whimper of satisfaction that he granted me. Without my towel, I was bare naked and my cock was hard, straining and as my mouth travelled lower, I felt myself brush against his still clothed crotch. The thin layer of fabric was a bit of an annoyance, I wanted more of him, but glancing up at him, I found the strength to be patient in seeing how gorgeous he looked in the moment. Surrendered to me, his head was pushed back against the pillow, thick lips parted as he took deep breaths and and fingers held a little tremble as they lingered around my shoulders, keeping contact as my lips kissed his navel, feeling the tickle of downy hair against my nose.

I breathed in, I loved the smell of him, musky and warm, and my own body trembled as I kissed the edge of his boxer briefs. Looking up, his melted-chocolate coloured eyes found mine and we shared a quiet moment of pause before I smiled and raised a brow just a little. He nodded and closed his eyes, heading falling back down against the pillow as I pressed a kiss lower and then wrapped my fingers around the edge of his underwear and began to tug downwards, very slowly.

Zac holds his breath as he lifts his hips, and I feel the blood rush from my head and straight to my already painfully hard cock as he's revealed to me. Thick and gorgeous, I allow my eyes to savour him for a moment before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the soft area near his shaft, looking up at him again when I hear a quiet whimper.

“Please...”

That's all it takes, my fingers are wrapped around him and I give him one last knowing glance before wrapping my lips around the thick, swollen head of his cock. Zac cries out loudly, and it's one of my most favourite sounds in the world, totally abandoned to pleasure he's reckless, he's not shy, and I love it. If everyone's partner was as responsive and as vocal as Zac, I think everyone would be having a lot more sex. I could spend all day going down on him, loving every reaction as I slide my mouth lower, allowing him to fill my mouth and trembling as his fingers find my hair. He holds me, but doesn't push me, pulling a little bit as I run my tongue along the underside of his length and then when I open my eyes as my mouth slides away from his skin, dark, dark eyes find mine.

“Fuck, Tay” He mumbles as I squeeze my fingers around the shaft of his cock and slide my lips around his head again.

Smiling a little bit around him in my mouth, I can't help but think about how much I love going down on him. My tongue washes over him in swirling strokes as I slide my mouth lower, my hand guiding itself in strokes that match my tempo, and above me, Zac is squirming and whimpering. I edge my tongue around the rim of his head, feeling him tremble and then he grunts softly as the tip of my tongue presses at the split. I can taste the bittersweetness of him on my tongue, hot and I move my hand quicker, finding I'm rewarded with more of him. The way he tastes is like an aphrodisiac to me and my body burns as I slide my mouth down him with more gusto, my fingers moving quickly. Groaning, his fingers tighten in my hair as he bucks his hips a little bit. Playfully, I press my free hand against his hip, keeping him still and he groans with desire filled frustration as I soak his cock with my mouth, my hand sliding in slick strokes.

I want more of him, but I'm not sure I'm ready to fill him. An idea wanders into my head and I tremble as the thought of it consumes me. Sliding my mouth off of him for a moment, I nudge his thigh with my free hand and he opens his eyes. Sliding my hand between his thighs, he knows that's the signal for him to open his legs and I see the red blush slowly creep over his skin as I slide between his open legs. My own skin is burning as I lie down on my stomach, my eyes resting on his hard cock and one of my hands slides towards it. Zac gasps as I wrap my fingers around him and his body trembles as my lips brush against his balls. I press a kiss there, and he groans as he seems to figure out what's coming next. I push his legs a little further apart, and as if on cue, Zac rocks his hips forward so that he's a little more exposed to me.

I start with a tentative kiss at the darkest region of his inner thighs, Zac's breath shaking with his body as my tongue slips between his cheeks. My fingers grasp his cock, feeling him pulse a little in my hand as my tongue nears his puckered entrance and as the tip of it washes over the sensitive skin, Zac can't help but cry out loudly.

“Oh god, Tay!”

His body shakes and I grasp his hips, keeping him still as I pull him closer to me and my tongue finds it's way to him again. Tiny, tentative strokes at first, washing around as he whimpers. I pull my hand up along his shaft, my palm covering his swollen head as my tongue tries to enter him for the first time.

“Tay” He groans loudly, hips bucking forward again. “I...”

His voice falls away as my tongue twists in careful circles and strokes against him, loving every single reaction he grants me. I'm curious about what he was going to request, but I have a few ideas about what it might be. Rimming is a weakness with Zac, one that I like to exploit when I'm craving him the most. I love every unique sound that falls from his mouth, I love the sound of his deep and shaking breaths, I love the shallow gasps and the tiny squeaks. It's like a symphony, and I'm the conductor, in control of it all. I twist my hand as I stroke him now, feeling his body shake and his hips rising and falling to meet my motions as he whimpers a desperate song for me, and my tongue works against him, eagerly. When I feel like he's reaching the crescendo, I pull my mouth away, making sure that he's nice and wet, before sitting up a bit.

Dark eyes open quickly, finding mine and offering a look of confusion. I smile a knowing smile and move my hand towards his mouth, pressing my finger tip against his swollen lips. He knows what I'm asking, and with another soft groan, he pulls my fingers into his mouth, and sucks. Eagerly. He wants it. My body trembles, my cock straining and I'm dying for contact, for release, but it will come. I pull my fingers away from his mouth, and replace them with my lips, a quick kiss before sliding between his legs again.

A wet finger slips between his cheeks and Zac groans as he feels the tip of my digit brush against him. His eyes flutter closed, head of long, shaggy hair pressed against the pillow as his hips rise from the bed. Zac wants it. He definitely wants it. I wiggle my finger against him, hearing him whimper and I choose that moment to wrap my lips around his cock, simultaneously with my finger pushing slowly into him. He groans and hisses quietly, but I know that I'm not hurting him – Zac absolutely loves to be played with. Licked, fingered, fucked... He loves it all, and he rewards anything I offer with his sweet sounds and his desperate actions. His hips buck up a bit, his cock pushing it's way into my mouth as I slide my finger into him, feeling how tight and hot he is around me and my own cock strains in response.

I look up at him, my heart pounding as my eyes wash over him. Hair splayed around him wildly, he looks desperate as he pulls in shaking breaths. I push my finger all the way into him now and he makes a tiny sound from deep within his throat, so I reward him by wrapping my tongue around his head. He rather likes that, and as I slide my finger slowly out, I push it back in a little bit harder. And he likes that too, another soft sound falling from his pretty mouth. A push-pull duet, his hips rise and fall as my finger slides into him. My mouth tries to match the tempo, but it's becoming increasingly difficult as his actions become more eager, more desperate. He's getting closer, and closer.

A second finger finds it's way to his hole, and he shivers as he feels it there. Opening his eyes, they find mine for a moment and we share a silent moment again. Zac closes his eyes as I apply a little pressure, and as he breathes in, I push my fingers into him and am rewarded by a throaty moan.

“Tay...”

His voice is thin and his body trembling as my mouth slides down his length in an eager suck. Twisting and curling around his heated flesh, I slide my mouth against him desperately as my two fingers enter him. He's tight and he whimpers as I manage to get them all the way in, but his hips buck as I slide them out slowly, and an eager groan as I push them back in.

“I'm....”

He doesn't need to say anything else for me to know what he means, and I feel the swell of his sack as it pulls towards his body. I pull the two fingers out and tease him for a moment, feeling him shake and listening to trembling pieces of sounds as I tickle the area with my finger tips. My mouth sucks on just the head of his cock until he's whimpering with desperation and his body quivering, I can't take it any longer, my own body burning it's own inferno and my own cock straining. I want to fill him... and I have every intention of finding a condom and lube once I taste him. He always cums first. But rarely does he only cum once. A very thin sounding moan tells me that he can't take much more, and I relent, pushing both fingers into him as I slide my mouth around him.

“Tay!” He cries out as his hips buck off of the bed and he comes inside of my mouth, four thick loads covering my tongue as he trembles beneath me.

I withdraw my fingers slowly and move up beside him, my body sliding against his. He turns his head and my mouth finds his, seeking a gentle kiss, but he returns it with gusto, kissing me hungrily, desperately. His fingers tangle in my hair as his body trembles, a few more little bucks from his hips. There's a little dribble of stray cum on his navel, and I pull away from him and give him one last look before sliding my tongue over his navel, tasting him. Zac trembles and his fingers pull at my hair.

“I want you...” He mumbles lazily.

His eyes open, and when I'm sure he's watching, I speak in a soft voice. “I'll be right back.”

He nods, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him crawl under one of the blankets as I make my way into the hall. I've packed the condoms and the bottle of lube in one of my bags, but as I reach the kitchen and find the pile of them, I realize that I'm not positive which one it is. My mind is hot and thick with conflicting thoughts – I'm desperate, I want him, but I need to find this stuff. I pull open one bag, pushing through a pile of socks for my little bag that I know I tossed into one of these. No luck. I try another one, and again, can't find it. Where did I put it? I wonder to myself. A few minutes have passed now and I'm growing impatient, cursing myself for not thinking of this before I went into the room in the first place. Finally, I found the little leather travel bag that I keep my lube, condoms and even a small butt plug in, and pull it out, standing up and carrying the entire thing into the hallway.

As I creep towards the room, my heart pauses. The form on the bed is very still, and as I creep closer, my notion is confirmed. In the darkness of the room, I can see his chest rising and falling in the slow, deep way it does when he's asleep. I tip toe into the room and his heavy breathing confirms it. I set the bag on the night table, deciding not to wake him, despite the erection that's still lingering, and the desire that I can feel still burning. I slip beneath the duvet instead, and his body stirs as he rolls over.

“Tay” He mumbles. “Sorry, I drifted off.” He gives me a lazy smile.

“Shhh.” I kiss the back of his neck and wrap my arms around him. “Let's just go to sleep, it's been a long day.”

Instead of answering me, he just takes a deep breath and covers my arms with his, pushing his warm, soft body back against mine and breathing one last contented sigh.


	4. The Listener - Chapter Three

Title: The Listener (Working title, subject to change)  
Part: Three  
Genre: Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV: Taylor  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: Not much for this one.  
Authors Note: This chapter is written as a 'past tense' recollection by Taylor, the same as chapter one. This will alternate (perhaps not always 1:1) but be noted. Enjoy!  
Dedicated to my amazing friend malfunkshon because she has been such a help for this story and given me so many kind words I don't hardly deserve. <3 She's the best fan, friend and muse a writer could ask for :)  
Word Count: 3114

Collapse

From the moment our van pulled into a private parking lot at the back of the park, a feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that it was going to be a day that I wouldn't soon forget. As I stared up at the towering roller coasters that stretched into the sky, a bubble of excitement rose within me, and the prospect of riding the roller coasters was almost too exciting to bear. Since the release of the album and the frantic schedule pitched on us, we had had very little time to just be kids and teenagers. As I looked over at my younger brother in the seat next to me and the way his mouth has literally fallen open, his eyes as big as saucers as he took in the rides, I knew that he was feeling exactly the same way I was.

“Mom, when can we go on the rides?” Zac blurted out as his little body began to bounce in the seat.

“After we sign in, we might have a few minutes, Zac, but-”

“How long is that gonna take?” Zac asked, his eyes darting back and forth between the rides and my moms face, and as I watched the lines in her face, I could tell that already her patience was being pushed.

My body burned a bit as I sat back, feeling a little more dismal then. My brother has always had a lot of energy, and at eleven, he was practically at his peak. Spending so much time focusing on rehearsal and writing, indoors and away from the regular things kids do, definitely took a toll on all of us, but especially on him. I was never sure how to handle it, part of me felt bad for my mom, who suffered from migraines that Zac had a knack for triggering when he got wound up, but a lot more of me sympathized with my brother who was too young to understand most of what was happening to us. He just wanted to be a kid, but we were growing up, fast.

“Probably about an hour, sweetheart. Can you try and wait that long? If we have time afterwards, we will see about you guys going on more rides then.”

My mom was trying the best she could, but I knew that it would be unlikely we'd have time after the concert, and we were always so tired after a show that we'd probably just want to relax – or at least, I would. Relax wasn't a word that Zac often found himself relating to. We waited for the body guards to come out and meet us outside the back gate, and when they opened the van door, I was able to step out into the bright sunshine, finally. It was impossible not to be excited as we approached the park, walking in through the back. The smells of popcorn and hot dogs, and the sounds of laughter and screams painted the air, carrying from the rides that were hundreds of feet away from the little buildings at the back that we went into. Far away from the crowds that would surround us at any given chance, these quiet moments were something that I relished.

The park officials and the event managers explained to us what the schedule of the day would be. We would have about an hour and a half to go through the park, with the company of three body guards. One of the perks about being celebrities is that we wouldn't have to wait in any lines, but part of me felt a little guilty about that, it was the modesty that my parents had instilled in me growing up. After the rides, we'd have to go right to the theatre area and back stage to change. We'd have some time for a quick sound check, and around that time, the crowds would start lining up, they told us. They'd let the guests in while we had a few minutes to grab something to eat and make any last needed adjustments, and then it would be show time. It would be a shorter set, as part of a special on a Canadian network called YTV. The event was called Pysko Blast, and we would be headlining it with an 6 song acoustic and electric mixed set. Zac had barely been able to contain himself while it was all being explained, asking one of the park employees questions about the roller coasters instead. He had already compiled an itinerary that would make sure we got on as many of the best rides as possible.

When we were finally able to enter the park, I immediately missed the peace and quiet of the back area we had been in before. The park was an absolute zoo, and even surrounded by body guards, I felt nervous as I heard girls whispering or not whispering, freaking out and screaming in fact, as we simply walked by them. The body guards did a good job at keeping them at bay as we approached the first ride, a tall wooden roller coaster with a steep drop called The Great Canadian Minebuster, but I could still hear everything that they said – or at least, a swollen combination where I heard fragments of my name and my brother names, between exclamations of love and excitement.

I was feeling a little claustrophobic by the time we made it into the roller coaster train, but it was thankfully empty, aside from us and as the ride jolted forward and the car clicked it's way along the wooden track towards the first hill, my qualms about the crowds were replaced with giddy nervousness about the ride. Zac was seated next to me, and as we started up the first hill, the wind carried a few pieces of his long blond hair into my face. I pushed them away and we laughed as we rolled over the top of the hill. The descent was seconds away and we shared one last glance before the car plunged downwards and we both let out curdling screams. At the end of the ride, we were laughing and giggling so hard that I had almost forgotten what would face me when I got off of the ride. Of course, the actual swell of girls that tried to close in on us as we left the ride, was an unwelcome reminder. As much as I loved being famous and playing music all over the world for thousands, maybe millions of people, sometimes I wondered what it would be like to see all these things and go all these places as a normal teenager.

Isaac really wanted to ride this giant tower ride called Drop-Zone. The car moves hundreds of feet up the tower, waits, and then plunges straight back down. It was over within seconds and honestly, it scared the crap out of me, but I wasn't about to look like a wimp in front of Isaac, either. Zac on the other hand, was a little more daunted. He had been gung-ho about the wooden roller coaster, but this one, he was balking at, chewing on his lip with a worried expression.

“Are you coming or not, Zac?” Isaac asked, stepping towards the line with a body guard at his side to escort him to the front through the exit.

“Y-yeah” Zac said, taking a few steps forward. “Wait” He said. “I need to fix my shoe.”

I glanced down, his shoes were tied. Isaac rolled his eyes as Zac seemingly adjusted his shoes.

“What about that ride instead?” Zac asked, pointing to a wooden roller coaster that sat next to Drop Zone.

“That's just like the one we just went on!” Isaac complained. And he wasn't wrong, the ride was remarkably similar. “If you don't want to ride this one, you don't have to. But I am.”

I began to follow Isaac into the exit and looked back at Zac. “Come on, it'll be fine.” I told him with a smile, finding his eyes and trying to reassure him.

Zac finally nodded and ran towards me, and we made our way to the front of the ride. He was noticeably quiet as the ride attendants helped us into our seats, and when our restraints were locked and the attendant yelled “All Clear”, I heard a tiny whimper from my brother.

“Zac?” I asked, feeling the ride jolt upwards as the car began to move.

“I'm scared.” Zac said.

“A little late for that.” I told him, trying to keep the subject light as our car climbed higher and higher, the park looking smaller and smaller as we climbed.

“Tay...” His voice cracked a little.

“Hey, it'll be fine.” I told him, but my own stomach was beginning to knot as we rose towards the clouds. “It'll be over really soon, just breathe. Close your eyes, don't think about it.”

Zac didn't have time to respond as the ride came to a halt at the top of the tower. My heart slammed in my chest as I took the moment to look around at the scene beneath me. It was breath taking. And then my breath was taken as the car plunged downwards and I could hear Zac's scream as I found myself too short of breath to scream at all. It was over in seconds, as I had promised and my legs were trembling as the restraints popped up and I lowered myself to solid ground.

“You made it.” I put my hand on his shoulder.

I had expected him to look relieved, but when Zac turned to me, a huge grin was plastered to his face while his eyes sparkled. “Of course I did, it was nothing.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes at him, choosing to be silent as I followed my brothers out of the ride and towards the next one, which was another roller coaster, to Zac's probable relief. Even if he wouldn't admit it. The fun could only last so long, and we were inevitably asked to wrap it up somewhere almost half an hour shy of the time we'd been promised. Zac was especially annoyed by this, but my mother shot him a warning look the minute that we had gotten the word, knowing that he was likely to run his mouth.

“Thank the staff, boys.” My mom told us as we approached the theatre. “Thank them for showing you around and letting you ride the rides.”

After the three of us had apologized, even Zac, we followed the body guards to the back of the theatre. It was a fairly typical backstage area, a lot more grungy and unglamorous than some people might imagine it to be. Cement floors and plain walls, we made our way down a long hall to a dressing room. Clothes were provided for us, paid for by sponsors of the event, and fortunately they were to our style as we made our choices from the options hung up. After we had changed, we headed to the sound check, which went without a hitch. The guitars were tuned, the drum heads and skins tightened and adjusted as needed, and the speakers had great reception and sound. My disappointment about missing out on some of the rides and the claustrophobic feeling of the huge crowds was slowly morphing into palpable excitement about the show we were about to play.

As the moments to show time wore on, my excitement only grew stronger and stronger, a nervous feeling beginning to surround my stomach. The crowd was huge, and so, so loud. The screaming we could hear from behind several thick walls backstage was immense, and as we finished putting on our ear monitors and ear plugs, I was thankful that we'd be able to drain most of it out and focus on our instruments. Of course, the sea of faces was always something I could drown in when I looked out at it. It was a balancing act, moving my eyes from face to face, trying to make eye contact with as many fans as I could. It made my heart race, swell, with pride and excitement as they would grin up at me, jumping, singing, having the time of their lives. My nervousness about making a mistake turned into a careful meditation, allowing and trusting my fingers to find the notes I knew by heart, singing the words I had written myself, striving to make this the best as I possibly could for the thousands of people that had taken the time to come and see me. These were the people that had bought my record at the store, the people who listened to me at home, it was surreal, but how it good it made us feel - it was something words can't even begin to describe.

Minutes before we were to go out, one of the crew came over to us, speaking to us through our ear monitors over the faint wall of sound we could still hear, despite the protection in our ears.

“Guys, the audience is 140 decibels. Make sure you have your ear plugs.”

All three of us moved our hands to our ears, checking our monitors and plugs.

“Check.” Isaac said, and Zac and I nodded, we were prepared.

We always put our hands together before a show as tradition, and we gathered in a circle, my brothers, our back up musicians, the stage crew and my parents. We said a quick chant and my heart raced as we inched closer and closer to the moment I had been waiting for. Finally, we stood at the door and it was the final count down. We watched the stage manager's hand signals as he counted down. On stage, we were introduced, and finally as the managers finger slipped from 1 to away, Isaac pushed the door open and we ran on stage.

The crowd was remarkably huge, and the sound that pierced us, even through the protection was surprisingly loud, but not comfortable. We ripped right into the first song, and as my fingers flew across the keys and my heart raced, I knew that I wouldn't give anything up for moments like that. By the end of the first song, my body was buzzing with adrenaline. I looked over at Isaac, who was grinning, and then back at Zac, who... stared back at me with his mouth set in a straight line. I wasn't sure what was up with that, but as he moved his drum sticks above his head to start the next song with a careful beat, I didn't have time to give it more thought. We flew through the song and I looked again at my brother, who was smiling this time. We played one more song with the drums and the electric guitar, before moving to the front of the stage for the acoustic set. I said a few words to the audience, though I can't remember now what they were. The acoustic set went off without a hitch, the audience singing along confidently with the words as we sang them the raw versions of songs they knew on the album. Man from Milwaukee had especially evoked a great reaction, particularly when Zac picked up the mega phone.

It always felt as though time sped up when we were on stage, and before we knew it, we were clutching each others hands for our final bow. We promised the fans that we would be back in Toronto soon, and then raced off the stage. We tore our ear monitors and ear plugs out as soon as we were far enough backstage, but the screaming went on and on long after we had moved to the change rooms. A cold shower felt good against my sweaty body, and I took my time, letting the water fall over me for several long minutes before turning it off. I towelled off and then changed into the brown corduroy pants and t shirt I had been wearing before the show. I remember the high I felt then, the way my body felt like it was racing with adrenaline and excitement, and yet, felt heavy with exhaustion from the effort I'd exerted. I remember very clearly as well, the way my stomach felt when I came out of the bathroom and into the change room, where Zac was lying on the couch, clutching one of his ears.

“What's wrong?” I asked him. My ears were ringing a tiny bit, but Zac looked like he was in a lot more pain than I was. I'd never seen him do this after a show.

“My ear hurts.”

“Really? Like, how bad?”

“I dunno, like a little. One of my ear plugs came out when I was on stage.”

My stomach sunk to the floor as he spoke calmly. Immediately, my mind raced back to what the staff member had told us. One hundred and forty decibels. Part of me naively hoped that if the audience could withstand it, my brother could too. Deep down, I had a bad feeling, a darkness that made me feel more and more afraid with each minute that passed.

“I think we need to tell mom and dad.”

Zac shook his head. “No, they'll make me go to a doctor.” Zac whined.

“Zac” I sighed. “You might need to see one – what if something happened to your ears? It was really, really loud out there.”

“I hate doctors, Tay. You're just being a worry wart, I'll be fine.” Zac said, sitting up on the couch and giving me a look that I didn't recognize, he rarely got cross with me, and it felt strange. I was only trying to help him, I couldn't help but be worried about him.

And to my horror, my worries would be warranted. Zac would not be fine.


	5. The Listener - Chapter Four

Title: The Listener (Working title, subject to change)  
Part: Four  
Genre: Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV: Taylor  
Rating: NC-17  
Warnings: Graphic sexual situations. ;) Not gonna give anything else away.  
Authors Note: This chapter is set in 'present' tense (prologue), which is around present time now, but feel free to imagine the boys appearances the way you want. The chapters will alternate (maybe not always exactly 1:1) between present time, and Taylor's recollection of past events. It will be noted but pretty obvious anyway.  
Word Count: 2120

Collapse

The morning warmth of the sun on my face as I open my eyes, and then beneath me, I feel the bed shift, the blankets move. Very quickly, I realize that Zac is between my legs, the warmth of his bare skin pressed against my bare thighs and I lift the blanket to look down at him, feeling my body burn with a blush. I lick my lips as I settle my eyes on his, watching as his plump mouth curls it's way into a sweet smile.

“Morning” He says quietly.

I smiled, eyes fluttering closed again, and my body trembling as I slid my fingers into his shaggy hair. His breathing was deep, tickling my thighs as his nose brushed over my skin and he laid soft kisses against the sensitive skin there. It wasn't the first time he had woken me up like this, but it was certainly a wonderful surprise. My cock was fully hard now, the tickle in my stomach when I had first felt his nose nudge my thigh was now a full on ache of desire, heavy and heady, I quivered as he inched his way towards where I needed him to be the very most. I opened my eyes a little and felt my cock twitch as I squirmed, he looked amazing between my legs, so incredibly sexy with his messy hair and the thick muscles on his shoulders. Finally, he found my eyes, melted chocolate brown as his tongue washed over the shaft of my cock.

“Oh god” I groan, and I know he can at least see my lips and feel the shake of my body as I quiver on the bed.

Zac's warm, thick fingers find my hips, holding them down playfully because he knows how much we both love it when he takes control. He can't hear me, but he does everything he can to push me to the edge, so he can feel, hear, my pleasure in other ways that he doesn't need his ears for. Zac hears me moan by the way my fingers twist into his hair as he drags his tongue along my hard cock. And then the feeling of his thick, marshmallow soft lips wrap around the head of my cock and I cry out, silent to him but he feels the thrust of my hips as he swallows me, pulling me into his warm mouth. Strong hands push me down and I catch him glance up at me playfully as he pulls his mouth along my cock, leaving it with a twist of his tongue against my slit and holding my gaze for a moment before lowering his head again. My eyes close and I'm surrounded by darkness and nothing but the feeling of his warm, wet mouth wrapped around me. I groan as one of his hands finds my shaft, fingers wrapping around me and finding a tempo that matches his mouth. Despite his lack of hearing, he has never lost the ability to keep a beat, and he creates a wonderful rhythm with his mouth soaking my heated skin while his fingers twist against my shaft in quick strokes. He continues this for several wonderful moments that slip by timelessly, and my body is growing hotter and hotter as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. I'm quivering and gasping by the time he drags his mouth away and looks up at me with smoky, hazy like eyes.

“I want you inside of me.”

His voice may be soft, but there is no mistaking what he's just told me, and as I feel the rush of blood to my cock, I realize that those words have left me on the very brink. I simply nod, helpless, and watch as he hops off of the bed and reaches for the condom and lube that I left on the night table last night. He returns to the bed, a red colour painting his cheeks and he looks at me a little more shyly as he holds out the materials to me. I take them from him and then get up a bit, kneeling on the bed as I lean towards him and brush my mouth over his.

“I love you” I tell him and I feel the curl of a smile against my mouth.

He shivers and I wrap my arms around him, leaning in and placing a few kisses against the side of his neck. I kiss a heated trail from his shoulder to his adams apple and then to one of his ears, my lips finding the very spot beneath his ear lobe that makes him moan and sure enough as my tongue washes over the area, he whimpers and wraps his fingers around my arms. My hands find his hips and I pull him down on top of me, so he's straddling my lap. His cock, just as hard as mine, brushes against me and I'm reminded of the task at hand. I lean forward and kiss him again, sucking his lip into my mouth and when I feel him tremble, I slide one of my hands down to the small of his back. I feel him, hear him breathe in but he kisses me eagerly, and so I allow my fingers to wander lower. I hear the catch of his breath and the little whimper that tumbles out after it as I press my finger tips gingerly against his entrance.

“Tay” He breathes.

His eyes find mine, half lidded and clouded with lust as he looks down at me, rocking his hips a little bit so that my fingers brush against him more. He presses down a little against me and my heart races. Reaching for the bottle of lube, I make quick haste of twisting the cap off and squeezing some of the thick gel onto my fingers. I return my fingers to him, feeling him quiver as I brush my fingertips against him.

“Do it.” He whispers.

That's all the encouragement I need, and I slide one finger into him, slowly, carefully. His fingers tighten their hold on my shoulders, finger nails digging in against my skin as I slide the digit all the way into him. Shaking breaths and then a soft groan as I pull myself out of him, only to slide back in. I repeat the motion a few times before he licks his lips.

“More.” He's insistent now.

Zac's mouth captures mine in a hungry kiss, sucking my lower lip into his mouth as I push a second finger against him. He moans loudly and lowly against my mouth, his body shaking as he pushes his hips down towards me. With his reaction, my fingers slide deeply into him and he leans forward, face in my neck as he quivers. My free hand finds his back, fingertips grazing slowly up and down as I carefully scissor my fingers inside of him, stretching the tight muscles open, taming them against my touch. Zac's mouth covers my skin now, first kisses, and then his soft lips sucked on a patch of skin near my shoulder as I began to pump the two fingers in and out, and when I pressed a third, I felt teeth.

“Tay” He growls into my skin. “I want you.”

I slide my fingers out of him and grab a few kleenex's. Zac rips open the condom packet as i'm wiping my fingers and his hand wraps around my shaft. I tremble as he strokes me for just a minute, getting me harder before rolling the latex over me in a quick motion. Reaching for the lube, he opens the cap and pours some onto me, rubbing it over the latex.

“Tay” He groans, trembling.

“Come on” I say, sure he's watching my mouth.

Zac adjusts himself so that he's hovering above the head of my cock and I wrap my fingers around his hips. Leaning forward, Zac's mouth finds mine, slow and cautious at first. I guide him closer to the head of my cock and he trembles as I brush against his entrance. The kiss breaks and his chocolate coloured eyes find mine.

“Ready?” I ask.

He nods and slides down a fraction, eyes closing tightly and a gasp from his mouth. I hold him tighter and bite my lip as he slowly impales himself. I watch as he keeps his eyes closed and but moves slowly down until I'm all the way inside of him. He exhales slowly before opening his eyes and I look into his eyes.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He nods, leaning forward and finding my mouth as he sucks my lower lip into his mouth. His body quivers as my hands move up his sides, feeling his soft, warm skin beneath my gentle touch. Zac stays still for another lingering moment or two, but when he begins to move, it takes all I have not to scream. A loud moan suffices instead and Zac smiles, watching my face as I roll my head back and dig my fingers into his skin. He feels indescribable, so tight and impossibly hot, wrapped around me. It's a snug fit, but a perfect one, and I can't imagine anything feeling more amazing than being inside of Zac.

“Tay” He breathes, gasping himself a little bit as his body quakes.

Glancing down, I see that he's hard as a rock and I wrap my fingers around his thick shaft. Zac cries out as I begin to move my hand along his length, feeling his hips speed up as he moves easily up and down my cock, fingers digging into my shoulders as he guides his own body. I watch his face, licking my lips as my eyes travel over his closed lids, his blushing cheeks, his parted marshmallow lips, and his soft bubble gum coloured tongue that washes over the dried flesh every so often, or soothing it after he bites down. A shaking moan as I flick my thumb against his head, and I feel his body tighten around me, squeezing.

“Fuck, Zac” I moan and he doesn't react, he wasn't watching my mouth and the freedom is a little liberating, so I moan again.

This time, he feels my body shake and he reacts, his eyes opening and his full mouth curling it's way into a smile before he speeds up and I feel my mind spin. My hips thrust off of the bed, pushing myself more deeply into him and those same full lips form a large “O” shape as he cries out. The next second, his mouth is on me, furiously kissing as he rocks his hips desperately against me. My body burns and my cock pulses inside of him, the burn is growing, and despite wishing that this moment could last forever, the reality is something else entirely, and I'm nearly at my peak. My stamina isn't at it's strongest in the morning, but as my body quivers and my hips thrust into him again, I moan because I know that my morning orgasms are some of the strongest and this one will be no exception.

One of my hands digs into his side, fingernails pressing as i thrust one last time into him and my other fingers squeeze his cock hard. I do all but scream as I fill the condom, hips bucking desperately until every drop has been expelled. My body trembles and I feel Zac's lips crush against mine. My breath is sucked away, but I need him to finish, and I find the strength to kiss him back as I pump my hand desperately against him.

“Tay!” Zac cries as his body shakes and then three thick loads of his cum fall between us.

He's panting, shoulders heaving as his body shakes and he finds my mouth one more time for a lazy kiss. I kiss him for a moment before pulling away.

“Good morning to you too.”


	6. The Listener - Chspter Five

Title: The Listener (Working title, subject to change)  
Part: Five  
Genre: Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV: Taylor  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: Not much for this one.  
Authors Note: This chapter is written as a 'past tense' recollection by Taylor, the same as chapter one. This will alternate (perhaps not always 1:1) but be noted. Enjoy!  
Word Count: 2241

Collapse

Zac made a point of ignoring me for the hours that passed after he had initially told me about the pain in his ear. Although he was refusing to acknowledge it, it was all I could think about as we loaded ourselves back into the van and made our way across to the city to a restaurant for dinner. All of us were exhausted from the show, and even the usually excitable Zac was quiet as we battled rush hour traffic in the scorching late afternoon heat. My stomach grumbled and I felt hungry, but a bigger part of me was worried about my brother. Even though he was tired, he was still more quiet than usual, and I couldn't ignore the couple of times I had seen him put his hand to his ear. I silently prayed that my parents would notice, but they seemed to be content with the fact that he was so peaceful and left it at that.

Zac made a point of sliding into the opposite end of the tables long bench, sitting with our back up guitarist, Ravi instead of with Isaac and I the way he usually would. Isaac watched as Zac sat down with Ravi and dad at the far end but I simply shrugged my shoulders. Now was not the time to bring up the real reason Zac was avoiding me, even though it plagued me as we opened up the menus and started scanning the items. I decided on a club sandwich and a side order of fries, and when my tall glass of Diet Dr. Pepper came, I drank it quickly and greedily, asking for a refill before the poor waitress had even brought our food to us.

I was a little bit relieved to see that the ear ache hadn't diminished Zac's always voracious appetite, and his spirits seemed to be brighter also, laughing and joking with the older crowd. I wasn't sure how they felt about having him down there instead of over here with us other kids, but everyone seemed too tired to worry about it. When I finished picking at the last of my french fries, everyone else was nearly done with their meals as well, and before long, we were thankfully leaving. As much fun as it was to spend the day performing, it was exhausting, and the queen size bed at the hotel was sounding more and more alluring.

“Zac, Taylor, are you still going to share a room tonight?” Mom asked us as we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel.

Zac looked to me, his eyes wide and then darting away. “Um.”

“Yes.” I answered, shooting Zac a 'look'.

My mom paused, looking between the both of us, and obviously sensing the vibe of tension that my brother was sending out.

“You could have your own rooms, if you'd rather.” My father offered.

I licked my lips, looking to Zac again. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “It's fine, dad. I'll share with Tay.”

I felt myself sigh a little bit with relief, but I looked away from him so that he wouldn't know it. We were weird like that sometimes, he knew he could get under my skin and I under his, but both of us had too much pride to admit it when it happened. Things were quiet as we parked the van and started pulling things out of the back. Most of our things were kept in the large tour bus we used, but we all had a duffle bag or similar to take into the hotel with us. It was a nice treat to sleep on a comfortable bed, rather than in one of the cramped bus bunks. Throwing my backpack over my shoulder and picking up my small Adidas bag, I started towards the hotels back entrance that we were able to use to avoid the front lobby where we could be recognized. We waited in the back as our parents went to check us in.

“I think this place has a pool.” Zac remarked, and Isaac's head looked towards him.

“Yeah?”

Isaac liked swimming almost as much as Zac did, and the two of them usually made it into the pool at every hotel that offered one. A bit of a rite of passage I suppose. It wasn't always easy, and we'd usually wait until after the pool had closed to the public, the hotel staff allowing us to have it to ourselves for a half an hour, maybe an hour, if we were lucky, if it was too busy before. Being recognized in our bathing suits was the thing my nightmares were made of at that point. I had stopped going most of the time they went, even, because of the fear that someone might be watching or might come in. That night, though, I worried about swimming for a different reason. About Zac swimming, in particular. If there really was something wrong with his ear... the water would not be the best thing for it. Isaac didn't know about it at that point, and I didn't feel comfortable saying it then either, with everyone else around to hear, that wouldn't be fair to Zac.

But back at the hotel room, that was another story. With Zac and I by ourselves, I waited until a few minutes had passed, when he had started pulling his Playstation out of his backpack to set up with the hotel tv.

“Zac?” I asked, watching as he untangled cords and plugged them back into their respective places.

He looked up at me, but didn't say anything.

“Are you going to go swimming?”

Zac nodded, looking back down at the cords. “Yeah. Did you want to come?” He was oblivious.

“Well.” I swallowed, feeling my body burn, and the choke in my voice had been caught by my brother as well.

His brown eyes looked up at me and his face was blank, he was confused, but he knew something was up.

“What about your ear? Does it still hurt?”

Zac shook his head. Shook his head rather quickly, and I couldn't help but feel that it wasn't the honest answer. Just then, there was a knock at the door and Zac rushed off of the bed to the door.

“Look before answering” I reminded him, knowing that I'd never forget the time that my overzealous brother had yanked open a door, expecting the guest to be someone we knew, and instead facing half a dozen camera flashes administered by young girls.

“I know, Taylor.” He said, rolling his eyes before heading to the door.

It was Isaac, which happened to be just perfect, because of course, he wanted to go swimming right then, and the pool was empty. It was a risky move, but I didn't feel like protesting if he was going to be in such a cranky mood. I did however, have something else planned. I decided then that while they were swimming, would be the perfect time to talk to my parents alone, and tell them what I knew about Zac's ear. With any luck, Zac would be at the hospital tonight or in the morning, and I'd be able to stop worrying. At least, that was what I hoped for then. I had no idea of what was going to come, I couldn't.

Isaac meandered into the room and sat down on the bed, clutching his towel as he waited for Zac to change into his bathing suit in the bathroom.

“Everything okay?” Isaac asked me.

I remember snapping to attention, my heart racing as I looked over at him. “Um, yeah.” I answered, feeling my cheeks burn.

Isaac lifted a brow, but decided not to question me further, and Zac appeared not long after, with his clothes back on over his bathing suit.

“Ready?” He asked, his eyes going straight to Isaac without even looking at me for a second.

“Sure.” Isaac agreed, getting up.

His brown eyes found mine as he followed Zac to the door, but thankfully neither of them said anything more than goodbye to me. I had known that I needed to think carefully about how I was going to tell my parents. If Zac really did need to spend time at the hospital, our tour schedule would be thrown off. We were supposed to be leaving the hotel first thing in the morning to catch a flight to Boston to play a concert the next night. I tried not to think about what it would be like to cancel a show as I made my way to the bathroom. I had had a quick shower at the venue, but for some reason, I still felt grimy and decided that the hot water could do me some good.

Once I was clean, I changed into yet another set of fresh clothes, a pair of jeans and a red t shirt with a blue number on the front of it. I brushed my long blond hair into a pony tail and reattached the chokers I'd taken off before washing. I had butterflies in my stomach as I made my way down the hallway, checking both ways first of course, thankfully finding the route to be clear. My parents room was several doors down but I finally found it and was relieved to hear the shuffle of feet after knocking.

“Oh, hi son.” Dad smiled as he opened the door a little bit. “I would have thought you'd be at the pool.”

I shook my head as my heart raced anxiously in my chest, a lump rising in my throat. “No, I was wondering if I could talk to you and mom?”

The features of my fathers face fell as he heard what I said. His lips tightened into a line as his brow creased a little bit. “Is everything alright, Taylor?”

I bit my lip. “I hope so.”

“Diana?” Dad called as he opened the door to let me step inside.

Mom appeared from the bathroom where she had been freshening up as well, and I watched as her eyes moved from dad to me, her face falling a little bit as she took in the tightened, concerned expression on my dads face.

“Taylor wants to talk to us.”

“Is everything okay, sweetie?” Mom asked, taking a few steps towards me.

“Well, it's not...” I sucked in a breath. “It's not about me, actually.”

“Is it one of your brothers?” Dad asked.

“It's Zac.”

“Is this about sharing the room?” Mom asked.

“Sort of.” I sighed. “He told me something that I need to tell you, and he doesn't want me to.”

“What is it, Taylor?” Dad asked, his tone serious, but only out of concern.

“When we played the show today, one of his ear plugs fell out on stage.”

“So you're saying Zac played the show with one ear plug?”

I nodded, swallowing as my eyes found the floor. I heard my parents suck in collective breaths.

“And he said his ear hurt.”

The conversation continued, with my parents initially being as concerned as I was, however, when I told them that he had told me it stopped hurting, they decided that maybe he was okay.

“I think he should get it looked at.” I told them. “I don't know if he was telling the truth.”

“You guys have that huge show tomorrow night and that early flight...” My dad sighed.

“Zac's health is more important.” Mom argued. I was glad that she saw it the same way I did.

They went back and forth for awhile, and with each passing moment, I only got more and more worried about what the final outcome would be. It was finally decided to call the airport, and check what other flight times, if any, were available. As it turned out, there was a flight at one o'clock that would get us there just in time for the sound check. It would be a tight schedule at best, but if Zac needed to miss the show.... that was something that I didn't even want to think about at that point, and my parents as well, seemed to be avoiding talking about the consequences of 'what if Zac was unable to make the flight' or 'What if Zac had to miss the show' for other reasons. It lingered beneath the surface though, it was impossible to ignore. All we could do was hope for the best, hope that at the appointment we'd have to make in the morning at a doctors or clinic would tell us that Zac would be okay. As it would turn out, Zac wouldn't make the appointment in the morning. He'd have to go sooner.


	7. The Listener - 6

Title:The Listener (Working title, subject to change)  
Part: Six  
Genre:Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV:Taylor  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: Some adult language.  
Authors Note:This chapter is set in 'present' tense (prologue), which is around present time now, but feel free to imagine the boys appearances the way you want. The chapters will alternate (maybe not always exactly 1:1) between present time, and Taylor's recollection of past events. It will be noted but pretty obvious anyway.  
Word Count: 2289

Pushing the key into the ignition of my white Range Rover, my eyes wander to the passenger seat and my heart speeds up as my eyes settle upon his ears. And his lack of hearing aids. I turn my eyes back to the steering wheel as I pull the car into reverse and start to back out of the spot. I want to say something to him, I want to say something about how selfish it is for him to go without the aids when we're in public. I hate that if I can't find him, I can't call his name. It makes me feel bad chasing him around like a child, and I know he hates how protective I am, but the one time I lost him for nearly two hours in Chicago was bad enough.

We'd been there for a weekend vacation, just a couple of days for just the two of us. On the first night, we went downtown to a street festival and Zac had left his hearing aids at the hotel – on purpose. The festival was full of loud music, loud music that didn't pick up well and hurt Zac's ears and head. My cellphone's battery had died and I had it plugged in back at the hotel room, I knew I would have to be careful. I had only turned away from him for a few minutes, it had felt, but it must have been more like ten or maybe even fifteen minutes that I was caught looking at some old cameras for sale. Sure enough, when I turned to look for him, he was gone.

The festival was huge and dreadfully busy. My claustrophobia was hauntingly bad that night, and as I pushed through the swells of strangers, my only thoughts were on my brother and if he'd be around the next turn. I eventually doubled back to the hotel to get my cellphone, where I found him waiting in the lobby with his nose in a book.

“Finally” He had said, putting the book down in his lap, but otherwise nonchalant.

Zac's calmness was something that I valued – most of the time. But at that particular time, it had infuriated me. I vowed that I'd never let myself be in that situation again, call me obsessive, or a control freak, but if that was what it took to keep Zac safe, so be it. The other thing that I tried to control, was what happened when Zac wasn't calm. His hearing aids were just one of the many things we didn't always see eye to eye on, and as I directed the car onto the tree lined road, I knew I was going to have to wait until we got to the store to 'talk'. It was too dangerous to keep my face towards Zac while navigating the twisted forest roads and then the busy highway that would lead us to town. We had cell phones this time, but the reception in the area we were going to was dodgy. Thoughts about Zac without his aids caused a ball of tension to form in the pit of my stomach.

With each painfully long minute that passed by, the tension grew, knotting and twisting until I was sure that I would puke. We finally made it to the store, and as I pulled into the busy parking lot, I found a spot near the back and parked the Range Rover. Zac moved quickly – a little too quickly, to pull his seatbelt off and reach for the door. Stretching my hand out, I wrapped my fingers around his wrist. He turned his head to look at me, his cheeks staining a pink shade. I swallowed anxiously, taking a deep breath.

“Wait.”

Zac sighs.

“You're not wearing your aids.”

Zac shakes his head. “So?” He shrugs.

“Stick with me, okay?”

Zac rolls his eyes. “I'm not fifteen anymore, Taylor.”

He turns and pushes the passenger door open before I can form a reply. The door slams and Zac is on the ground. The anxious knot has turned to an ache, and I feel like an asshole for making him feel childish. I know I sound overbearing when I come down on him like that, but I can't help but worry. He starts walking towards the store and I hit the “Lock” button on my remote before jogging after him. I catch up with him in time to walk into the large department store together. I pull a cart out and Zac follows beside me as we move to the grocery section of the store first.

“I'll get the cereal?” Zac volunteers. “It's just right there.”

He's pointing to a little aisle not too far away from the produce section that we're standing in. I know he's probably going to go no matter what i say so I simply nod before turning towards the basket of apples. I select a few Macintosh apples, placing them into a bag and into the cart. A bunch of bananas, a basket of strawberries. Zac returns with a box of Multigrain Cheerios for me, and a box of Lucky Charms for himself. I don't know how he likes the stuff and he smirks at the way my nose wrinkles as he tosses it into the cart. Some potatoes, carrots, and a tub of sour cream because that's the only way Zac will eat the potatoes. We pick out a package of steaks for dinner, and a small chicken for tomorrow. The cookie aisle always ends poorly, and sure enough, we turn into the next aisle with no less than three boxes of Zac's favourites stacked in the cart. We finish finding the rest of the groceries we need, and Zac reaches for my arm. I look towards him.

“I need a pack of socks.”

“Okay, we need some mouth wash and soap... can we get that first?” I ask, showing him that the pharmacy section is just up ahead.

“I'll go myself.” Zac offers.

The clothing is all the way at the other side of the store, and the thought of Zac by himself at the opposite end of the store makes me nervous. But I'm also nervous about what might happen if I say no. His patience is already wearing thin, and when Zac gets moody – watch out. He may be calm sometimes, but with the calm, comes the storm every once in awhile, and he rages like dark thunder.

“Be quick.”

“They're socks, Tay.”

I ignore the way he rolls his eyes before wandering off, and I find myself in the oral care aisle of the pharmacy. By the time I've found the mouth wash, dixie cups, a spare tooth brush because I like to have one in the cupboard, and a package of bandaids, I was hoping Zac would have met me back. No such luck, however. There's no sign of Zac as I push the full cart away from the pharmacy department and towards the other end where the clothes are. I snake my way into the mens section, sure that Zac must be behind one of these racks or another. I walk slowly by, not wanting to push my cart through the narrow spaces, hoping Zac will appear. Several minutes pass and I'm into women's lingerie, and there's still no sign of my brother. I feel my heart beat speed up, and my skin feels hotter. I push the cart towards the grocery section when I start to hear the commotion.

“I said MOVE, buddy” A pause.

My heart sped up a little faster.

“What are you, retarded?”

I pushed my cart towards the next aisle just in time to see Zac turn towards a large, muscled man who was looking very angry, and to my horror, Zac's voice.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Zac fired at him.

And like slow motion, the way it felt in nightmares, I watched as the tanned skin of the taller mans fist made smooth contact with my brothers face. Zac grunted and stumbled backwards, and rushing forwards, I reached out for him, feeling his heavy body in my arms and then quickly pulling away. I tried to tighten my grasp on his arms but Zac thrashed out, arms pumping and I scrambled to reach for him just as security guards came storming around the corner.

“What on earth is going on here?!” A tall guard with a dark buzz cut boomed, looking furiously between Zac, and the guy who had thrown the punch was scrambling away.

The blond guard rushed after the escapee while the taller one rushed over to my brother and I. Zac pulled out of my arms and reached up for his face. My body felt cold with fear as my eyes found the blood that was pouring out over his hands, from his nose.

“He's going to have to get looked at” The guard said. “I'll call for an ambulance.”

An ambulance. Zac would not handle that well. “N-no. I'll take him.”

The guard raised his brow. “I think it would be better if we got him taken away.”

I shook my head. “He's deaf. Just please.”

The guard sighed. “I'm going to call them so trauma is ready.”

Everything moved quickly, like a blur. The police showed up as the second guard apprehended the man that had thrown the punch. From what he had already told the police, he had asked Zac to move, and he hadn't – because he hadn't heard him. He then reached out for Zac, and Zac would have seen him call him 'retarded'. Just the thought of the word made my own blood boil, and frankly, I wasn't surprised that Zac had reacted the way he had.

Even though he was generally a peaceful guy with me, Zac had always had a bit of a short fuse, mostly with the rest of the world, but at times, it had even been directed towards me. It wasn't often that Zac would go off, but when he did, it wasn't pretty. Strangers sympathy or – a lack there of, were one of the most common things that set Zac off. He hated feeling abnormal, he hated that he was different, and out of shame, he spent a lot of time within himself. I was fortunate enough that Zac kept himself open to me, but sometimes, the outside world was not so lucky, and saw a side of Zac I prefer not to see.

The officers agreed that Zac needed to be seen at the hospital more urgently than he needed to give a report, so I braced an arm around my brother as I lead him out of the store, leaving the cart of groceries behind, of course.

“Tay, I don't want to go to the hospital.” Zac spoke up.

“'Fraid you don't have much of a choice.”

“I'm fine, it's just a little blood.” Zac said, dabbing a clean side of the wadded up towel he had been given against his bloody nose.

“It could very well be broken.” I tell him as I unlock the van with the remote.

“It's not.” Zac argues. “Please.” He swallows, and I sigh.

“Zac” I tell him, reaching up and running my fingers through my messy hair. “Please. We need to get it looked at.”

Zac bites his lip and looks away from me. “I don't want to.” He says very quietly.

Zac is notoriously stubborn at times, and now is one of the times he is really owning the trait. He crosses his arms and fixes his eyes on the ground, but the tremble in his body tells me that his fear is genuine. Zac hates doctors, he always has, and I think he always will. It stemmed from an incident when he was only four years old, one that's permanently marked in my own memory. He and I had been taken to the doctor for check up's, and Zac would require an inoculation. The doctor had promised him it wouldn't hurt, but when Zac saw the needle, he panicked, and dad had held him tightly down while he screamed. I'll never forget the curdling scream he let out or the way he sobbed into my shoulder on the way home. The fear manifested itself over the years, and the barrage of doctors visits after the accident only amplified the deeply rooted fear, turning it into a full blown phobia, I knew that the hospital trip was no easy thing for Zac to do.

“Please, Zac.” I say, stepping towards him and reaching for him.

Zac looks up, his brown eyes shaking as a layer of tears forms over them. “I'm scared.”

“I know, but I'll be there with you, I promise it'll be okay.” I tell him, reaching for his hand and squeezing his trembling flesh between my fingers.

Very slowly, and carefully, Zac nods. I sigh with relief.


	8. The Listener - 7

Title: The Listener (Working title, subject to change)  
Part: Seven  
Genre: Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV: Taylor  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: Not much for this one.  
Authors Note: This chapter is written as a 'past tense' recollection by Taylor, the same as chapter one. This will alternate (perhaps not always 1:1) but be noted. Enjoy!  
Word Count: 2124

I remember expecting to feel relieved after telling my parents, and I distinctly remember exactly how anxious I still was. My parents had decided to go down to the pool to get Zac right away, and it felt as though someone had lit a bomb beneath me. I had crept back to the hotel room that Zac had the other key to, knowing that it was only a matter of time before my brother – my very angry brother, would be back, storming through the door and furious with me.

I settled onto the bed, picking up the remote and flipping through the channels. I didn't have the focus to actually watch anything, I just watched a couple minutes on one channel, then a few more on another, my eyes wandering to the door every few seconds. My stomach was in knots and I couldn't get comfortable, despite the pillows being down filled and the bed being wonderfully soft. When the door did finally open, my stomach felt on the verge of puking as a lump rose in my throat.

“I can't believe you told mom and dad!” He exclaimed, slamming the door so loudly behind him that I jumped a little bit.

“Zac! I didn't have a choice.” I said, sitting up and trying to look at him, but finding it impossible with the way he was storming around, I was too nervous.

“I trusted you. I always keep your secrets, Tay.” Zac said, throwing his arms over his chest.

“Like what?” I asked, trying to remember what the last “secret” I might have told him could be – I couldn't think of any, at least, none that were as important as this had been.

“I didn't tell them you forgot to water mom's plant and that it died.” Zac retorted.

“But she knew it died. She just didn't know it was because of me.”

“Exactly.”

“Zac” I sighed as I met his eyes. “You need to see a doctor, what if you hurt yourself?”

“I didn't.” Zac insisted. “They're fine now.”

“Really?” I asked him, hoping that he was telling the truth. I wanted to believe him, I really did, because it would have set me at ease, but I wasn't able to. My gut had told me something was wrong, and unfortunately, it had ended up being right.

“Yeah.” Zac said. “I'm not sleeping in here anymore.”

“What?” I asked, watching incredulously as my younger brother began putting things back into his duffle bag. “Where are you going?”

“Isaac's room.”

“Did Isaac agree to this?” I asked, knowing that it would be a little out of character for my eldest brother to offer his baby brother the opposite bed in his room.

“Yep. Unlike you, he's a good brother, who doesn't run his mouth to mom and dad.”

I had rolled my eyes as I turned away from him, frustrated with his nonsense by that point. I'd watched him pack up the last of his things before heading to the door.

“I'm leaving.”

“Whatever, Zac.” I told him, reaching for the remote and turning the television on, trying to give him the impression that I didn't care about his attitude problem.

When in reality, it was eating at me, my stomach in knots and I had felt like an asshole. I'd betrayed his trust, and now he had to go to the doctor – his least favourite place. He had plenty of reasons to be mad at me, but I still felt plenty of reasons what I did was right. I was relieved that he'd be getting checked out the next morning, and at that point, I was hopeful that if there was damage, it could be caught in time. I tried to ignore the slam of the door as he stormed out, but it was impossible to ignore the quietness that consumed the hotel room in his wake. Fortunately, I had been fairly exhausted from the long day and as I crawled under the covers, I could feel my body instantly relax and I stifled a yawn. With a sigh, I fell back against the stack of pillows and turned the channel to the Comedy network. The last thing I remember before waking up again, was Cartman arguing on a South Park rerun.

“Taylor! Wake up!” My mom's voice shattered my consciousness and I jumped up awake in bed.

Confused, so confused, I struggled to open my eyes against the blinding light and I flicked my eyes to the clock. Three in the morning.

“Get out of bed, Tay, it's Zac.” My mom said, reaching for my blanket and yanking it off of my body. “We have to get to the hospital.”

The next moments are a blur, I remember so hastily throwing on the first clean clothes I could find, it was the first time in a long time that I had gotten dressed with so little thought to my appearance. I can't remember what I ended up in, but I'm sure it was an interesting combination. It only took about ten minutes to get packed up and out of the hotel room, I'd gargled some mouth wash in lieu of brushing my teeth, hoping that I'd be back before too long, but even then, having a dreadful feeling that it would be a lot longer than I hoped.

Zac was already in the van, and he was doubled over in the back seat in dad's lap, sobbing. My heart broke to see him like that, shattered and in so much pain, and knowing that I wanted this to be taken care of sooner, and now Zac was hurting. I felt guilty and helpless, but he didn't even notice me as I looked to him, sliding into the middle seat next to Isaac.

“What happened?” I'd asked my brother as mom ran around the front of the car to get into the drivers seat.

The van rumbled beneath us, and as Isaac told me about how Zac had woken up practically screaming in pain, I remember the way my blood felt cold and my stomach knotted more and more with every detail. I would have been the one to wake up to that, had we not gotten into that fight. I wondered how Isaac reacted, but didn't want to ask. The hospital ended up being about fifteen minutes away, with mom driving fast and with the lack of traffic in the inky blackness of the late hour. All through Isaac's explanation, in the background, literally behind me, my brother sobbed haunting sobs.

The emergency room was busy, despite the hour, but no one seemed to notice us as anything but another family as we made our way to some empty chairs. Zac had moved to my mothers lap, and she stroked his hair as he cuddled into her chest. He'd been given some Tylenol, and it seemed to be working, with his crying subsided, but I noticed instead, the fear in his eyes. Zac hated hospitals, hated doctors, the poking, prodding and jabbing that went with it all. He'd been known to worry himself sick the days before an appointment, when we'd had to get vaccinations for our passports and travel visa's, Zac had been hysterical. He seemed something beyond hysterical now, overcome with worry he had slipped into a quiet resolve, a quietness that I would become more and more familiar with.

Finally, Zac was able to be seen, but Isaac and I were left alone while my parents accompanied him into the examination room. Isaac and I had to stay behind, and I felt desperately helpless as I watched him disappear down the hall, clinging to my moms hand for dear life. Restless, I got up from the chair and wandered around the waiting room, feeling Isaac's eyes following each step I took. I picked up a couple of different magazines and papers, but nothing held my attention. The tapping of my foot was warranting sigh after agitated sigh from Isaac, and finally, he cleared his throat.

“I'm going for a walk. Outside. Do you want to come?”

I shook my head. The thought of leaving was not possible to me, I couldn't stand to be away when he might come out at any minute. I knew that that was unlikely, but the last thing I wanted to do, was to not be here if it happened. Besides, where were we going to go at 3 in the morning? The street was dark and the only thing I could see with any sign of life was a McDonalds in the far distance.

“No... where are you going?” I asked as he got up, stretching his arms above his head as he yawned.

“To get a coffee at McDonalds. Do you want one?”

I licked my lips. Coffee. It had been an indulgence for a little while then, and with the lateness, it did sound mighty tempting. I nodded. “Yes please.”

“Black?”

I nodded again. I always drank it black back then, liking the rich, bitterness. I'd later switch to adding milk, then cream, and then to lattes... It was the beginning of a long term addiction and love affair. Time seemed to creep by even more slowly after Isaac had left, and I felt a little paranoid by myself as well. I wasn't used to being out without body guards at that point, and despite being a hospital, and despite it being three am, I felt a little vulnerable sitting there by myself. My bladder started to burn after awhile, and I found my way into a long white hall, looking for the bathroom to relieve myself.

Isaac was waiting for me when I returned, and I was grateful for the hot coffee that he handed me. Clutching the cup in my hands, I brought it to my mouth and gulped back a few swigs of the scalding liquid.

“Ah” I had sighed, setting the cup down and feeling my body relax just a little bit.

I can't recall just how long we sat together in the waiting room, simply waiting. The inky sky began to fade into a dark purple, and then touches of grey streaked through as a huge orange sun began to rise in the distance. Morning was coming, and Zac was still away from us, we hadn't heard a single word about him. By the time the sun had made it's way to the top of the sky, with it's warm glow painting the city in a soft, morning light, my coffee was long gone but my body still restless. Finally, my parents appeared in the hallway, without Zac.

“Where's Zac?” I asked, jumping out of my chair.

My mother's blue eyes found mine and she simply stared at me for several long moments. With each one that ticked by, my stomach tightened, my throat closing a little more as it became harder and harder to breathe. My heart raced and my mind was beginning to spin... slow at first, but it would soon be out of control. Where was Zac?

“He needs to stay for some testing.” My dad finally answered.

“What kind of testing?” Isaac asked.

“Zac... suffered some damage to his ears yesterday at the show. They aren't sure the extent yet, but it's his ear drums, and it may not be good.” My dad's voice cracked a little bit and my moms arms were around him in an instant.

My mother embraced my dad for a moment, trying to be brave herself but burying her face in his shoulder away from our view. My body trembled as I stood alone, it felt like a movie instead of real life, specifically, one that I was watching from a distance. It was surreal, it couldn't really be happening, maybe it was a dream? I was sure it must be a dream, I was going to wake up any minute... But I never did wake up, it was all very much real, and it was just the beginning of something worthy of the title nightmare.


	9. The Listener - 8

Title:The Listener (Working title, subject to change)  
Part: Eight  
Genre:Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV:Taylor  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: Some adult language.  
Authors Note:This chapter is set in 'present' tense (prologue), which is around present time now, but feel free to imagine the boys appearances the way you want. The chapters will alternate (maybe not always exactly 1:1) between present time, and Taylor's recollection of past events. It will be noted but pretty obvious anyway.  
Word Count: 2436

Driving to the hospital, felt like reliving memories I had tried to bury. Zac was deathly quiet, I knew he was nervous about what was about to happen, and I didn't know what to say to make it better. Driving and talking to Zac at the same time wasn't safe either, especially when I was trying to hurry. I felt his eyes on me as we approached one of the last sets of lights.

“Tay” His voice was soft.

“We're almost there.” I reassured him as I sped through the yellow, feeling my heart beat quicken a little bit as I pressed my foot against the pedal.

Signs at the hospital helped navigate us into the emergency parking lot, and thankfully, the parking lot was a lot less busy than I had feared. I pulled the Range Rover into a spot near the doors and pulled the gear into park. I looked over at my brother as I unbuckled my seat belt.

“Are you going to be able to do this?” I asked him, feeling my stomach knot up as his worried brown eyes fixed themselves on me.

He nodded. “Will you come with me?”

I knew that he was referring to more than just going into the emergency room with him, I knew that he needed more than just someone to wait with him. What he wanted, what he was requesting, was for me to go into the examination room with him. I was naturally squeamish, and the trickle of blood on Zac's hand where he held his nose only made me even more anxious. But I knew that he was much more afraid than I was, and he needed me a lot more than I needed to chicken out on him.

“Yes.” I said.

“Okay. L-lets go.” Zac said, reaching for the passenger door and pushing it open.

I follow Zac through the automatic doors, feeling the breeze behind me as they whoosh closed. I hate the smell of hospitals, and my stomach tightens as I follow him into the blindingly bright, stark white reception area. I step up to the desk as Zac stands at my side.

“My brother needs to see someone. He got a punch to the face.” I explain to the brown haired nurse who sits behind the desk. She raises a brow as she looks to him, licking her lips as her eyes swim over his pale face and the blood on his hands.

“He's going to need to fill out this paper work. Bring it back up when you're done and I'll try to get him seen as soon as possible.”

She pushes a clipboard of papers towards us, and Zac picks them up, giving the receptionist a shy smile before following me over to some empty chairs along the wall. We sit down, and I watch as he begins to write in the first lines, his name, his date of birth. Zac's hands are shaking by the time he gets to the symptom section, and I look around the room, feeling my body burn as I resist the urge to reach out and touch him. In one corner, there's a blond haired mother, her messy hair pulled back into a pony tail and she's cradling a little, equally blond daughter, a couple years old. At the end of the row, an elderly couple sit together, looking at magazines. No one seems to be paying attention, so I reach out and lay my palm on Zac's thigh. He jumps beneath me and his eyes dart to mine. I pull my hand away as I feel my cheeks burn with a deep blush.

“Don't be nervous.” I whisper.

He gives me a weak smile before turning back to his paperwork, filling in the rest of the blanks. When he's finished, I follow him back up to the desk to turn the paper work in.

“A nurse here will take his vitals now, and then you'll have to wait again, okay?” She says.

I look to Zac. “Did you catch that?” I ask him as he watches my mouth.

“He's deaf.” I quickly explain to the receptionist.

She looks surprised, but nods, giving a sympathetic smile. Zac hates those, but I don't think he's noticed, or at least, he's not reacting. That's really a blessing. “A nurse is going to take your vitals now, okay?”

Zac is hesitant, but he nods.

“Can I go with him?” I glance over at the receptionist.

“Sure.” She nods. “I'll call now.”

The receptionist calls for a nurse, and a few minutes later, a male nurse appears in light blue scrubs. He's clean shaven, dark tanned skin and warm brown eyes. Short brown buzz cut hair and thick, arched eyebrows, I decide that he's going to make for good eye candy while I accompany Zac. Zac doesn't seem phased or interested in the appearance of the nurse though, he's decidedly quiet and withdrawn as we follow the nurse towards a small examination room.

“I'm nurse Jake.” The nurse says as he closes the door behind him.

“You're going to have to say that again when he's looking at you. He reads lips, but doesn't hear.”

“Oh!” Jake blushes deep, and I feel my own skin burn as I admire how adorable he looks when he's flustered.

Zac sits down on the examination table and when his eyes are on the nurse, Jake smiles and reaches his hand out for Zac. “I'm Nurse Jake. I'll be doing your pre-examination.”

Zac smiles. “I'm Zac.” He says quietly, blushing because he's aware of his slight accent.

Jake is kind and gentle, and I'm relieved as I watch him gingerly press his stethoscope against my brothers skin, up underneath his t-shirt. Zac's eyes don't leave mine, as he sits on the table across the room and I watch from a chair on the wall. I can see the way he's shaking a little bit, but Jake is patient and quietly tells Zac to “Breathe deeply”. Jake finishes checking Zac's breathing and his heart rate, and quickly uses a little light to shine into Zac's injured nose.

“Are you pretty sore? What would you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten?” Jake asks, speaking a little bit more slowly and more carefully than usual as he reaches for a clipboard.

Zac shrugs. “Not that bad now, maybe a four.”

“Okay, good. I'm hoping it's not broken, Zac, but I want to get it x-rayed. “

“Alright.” Zac nods.

“If you guys want to go wait out there again, I'll try and make sure I get you seen as soon as possible. Do you have any questions for me before I go?”

Zac slides down from the examination table, paper crinkling beneath him as his feet touch the floor. Zac shakes his head and I glance at Zac and then back at Jake and just shrug.

“Thanks, Nurse Jake for taking care of my brother.” I say, my eyes finding Zac as I speak, hoping that he gets the hint.

“Thanks.” Zac mumbles.

It's better than nothing. Zac follows me back out into the waiting room, and I hear him sigh as we sit down.

“I don't think it's broken, Tay. Can we go home?”

Now it's my turn to sigh. I can feel a headache coming but I resist the urge to rub my temples because I know that Zac's watching me. “No.” I shake my head. “We need to get it looked at. It shouldn't take long.”

Zac sighed, and I felt like disappearing into the floor if it would let me. He was impossibly stubborn sometimes, and when he didn't get his way, he turned into a sullen brat. Sure enough, he gave me the silent treatment for a good thirty minutes until we were called into the x-ray room, guided along by a friendly lady doctor in her fifties if I had to guess, grey blond hair pulled into a pony tail she had a friendly smile and she attempted to sign 'Hello' to Zac with her hands, assuming he signed, but that was another thing that made Zac different than other deaf people, he didn't sign, nor did he show any interest in ever learning.

“I don't sign.” He said. “But I'm Zac.”

She gave him a shy smile as her cheeks blushed. “Nice to meet you, I'm Dr. Maria. I want to take some X-Rays and then as long as you're fine, you can be on your way.”

Zac smiled back at her, and I was pleased with how calm he seemed to be as we followed Maria into the small, dark room. “I'll need you to wait out here, while I take Zac in there.” Maria pointed to a smaller, attached room.

Zac looked quickly to me and I licked my lips, feeling helpless. Maria seemed to sense the tension as she looked from my brother to me, and then back to my brother.

“It'll only take a second.” She assured him.

That was a good enough answer for Zac, and without any more fuss, he followed her into the smaller room. It felt like a lot longer than a couple of minutes, but the smile on Maria's face when the pair appeared caused me to practically heave with relief.

“Nothing broken, he'll just need to keep some ice on it. A couple tylenol.” Maria said.

Zac smiled at me and I smiled back, but there was a smugness about his smile. Maria made her way out and Zac lingered for a moment, waiting until the room was empty.

“Told you it wasn't broken.” He told me with the same smug smile.

“Rather safe than sorry.” I told him, brushing past him and heading for the door.

If I had to be honest, I'd had enough of his attitude and I was looking forward to going home. I really do love my brother, and we have a fantastic relationship, but at times, he does push my patience. The stubbornness, the insistence that he's always right, and he's fairly cocky when I'm wrong. I try not to let it get to me, because there are so many great parts about my brother, and he's quiet as we make our way to the reception desk to pay, at least he usually knows when to shut up.

It occurs to me as we're leaving the hospital that we still don't have groceries, and I decide that we'll be going to a different store this time, just in case. Zac is quiet until we reach the point where we'd usually turn for the road back to the cottage, instead of right, I turn left so I can head back into the middle of town to go to the grocery store.

“Groceries.” I remind him, glancing over just long enough for him to see.

Zac sighs.

I want to tell him “I want to go home too” but instead, I'm quiet, reaching for the knob on the radio instead as I turn onto the familiar street.

The grocery store is busy, but Zac fortunately sticks at my side as we wander through the aisles. We're moving quickly, because both of us want to go home. Zac is looking at some bags of cookies when I see a box of cake mix. I smile as an idea rolls into my mind, reaching forward and plucking a box of Chocolate Fudge Betty Crocker mix off of the shelf, and then reaching for a bag of Baker's semi-sweet chocolate squares. I have a special way of making boxed cake extra special, and I grab a can of chocolate Buttercream frosting. Zac absolutely adores chocolate, but I'm relieved when he doesn't seem to notice the additions to the cart. I want to make him a small cake, something to take his mind off of what happened today. Chocolate therapy for me, and baking therapy for me. There is something surprisingly stress reducing about beating ingredients together into something delicious. I'm no Cake Boss, but, Zac never has a problem reducing one of my cakes or several cupcakes to crumbs.

I end up forgetting about the cake until it's late in the afternoon. Zac is in the bedroom, playing a video game, and I smile to myself as I begin to pull ingredients out of the cupboard. I have everything ready and assembled when I go to find the chocolate frosting, and find that it's missing from where I left it on the second shelf in the cupboard. I check the second cupboard, even though I'm sure that it's not in there, and sure enough, it's not. Strange. I'm positive that I bought chocolate frosting, and even more positive that I put it away on the second shelf. I can't call for Zac, but I decide that he might know where it went, maybe he moved it, it didn't make any sense... but...

The breath is pulled from my lungs when I find myself in the doorway, and very quickly, also find the answer to my question of the missing frosting. Zac is on the bed, clad in nothing except a pair of thin grey boxer briefs, and in his hand, the can of frosting. He raises a brow as his thick lips curl into a smile and he dips his finger into the open can, covering the end of it in thick frosting. Very slowly, he brings the finger to his mouth and closes his eyes as his lips close around it and his bubble gum tongue washes away every bit of chocolate frosting until the skin is clean. I'm barely able to stand by the end of the assault on his finger, let alone think about the cupcakes. I have different intentions for the frosting now...


	10. The Listener - 9

Title: The Listener (Working title, subject to change)  
Part: Nine  
Genre: Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV: Taylor  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: Not much for this one.  
Authors Note: This chapter is written as a 'past tense' recollection by Taylor, the same as chapter one. This will alternate (perhaps not always 1:1) but be noted. Enjoy!  
Word Count: 2424

There would be no show in Boston that night. We knew that much as soon as we found out that Zac would need to stay for more thorough examination, testing. There was no way we could make it to Boston in time. It was the first show of several that we had to cancel due to Zac's condition. Isaac and I ended up back at the hotel, trying to eat breakfast in the restaurant with the rest of the road crew. It was the quietest meal the group of us had ever shared, and I still remember every detail about it. Two slices of toast, three strips of bacon, two eggs and a cup of strawberry yogurt. A glass of orange juice and a glass of milk, both. I drank two small sips of orange juice, and one spoonful of strawberry yogurt and felt full. No one else had much of an appetite either, and I watched our mostly full plates get taken away with a twinge of guilt. My parents had taught me never to waste. But eating seemed a selfish thing to enjoy when so consumed with worry. We were driven back to the hospital, and in the waiting room, our parents were waiting for us.

My stomach knotted as we crossed the waiting room and saw our parents standing together, their faces drawn with deep lines, grave expressions and hollow eyes. I wanted to be sick then and there, the tiny bit of breakfast I had swallowed was threatening to upheave itself and I felt a little faint.

“We got a preliminary diagnosis.” My mother whispered, reaching for my fathers hand and clutching it tightly.

My father's eyes wandered slowly between my brother and I. “I'm afraid we have to cancel more than just the Boston show, boys. Zac is going to be out of commission for awhile.”

“What?” Isaac gasped. “We have to stop touring?”

“What's wrong?” I blurted out. “What's wrong with Zac?”

I didn't even care about the tour, all I was worried about, was Zac. I didn't hear my fathers words about cancelling the shows, they didn't sink in in that moment, all I was focused on what the end of the sentence, Zac would be out of commission. Why? For how long?

My parents were deathly silent for several long moments and with each one, the feeling of dread rose like bilge in my throat, burning and it became a little harder to breath as my lungs seemingly tightened. Heart racing, I waited for them to answer, my mind spinning out of control and as my knees began to tremble, it was just like waiting for a bomb to detonate. Tick, tick, tick, with each moment of silence, my heart beat faster and my body burned hotter.

“What's wrong with Zac?” Isaac spoke, his words pulling me out of myself for a moment and I looked to him, and then back to my parents.

Please. I pleaded with them silently as I licked my lips. Just say it.

“Zac has suffered some damage to his ear drums.”

The screaming girls literally broke his ears. It was at that moment, I decided that I could never look at them quite the same way again. The loud crowds had used to be such a rush, a thrill, now the prospect terrified me, angered me, they had hurt him, they had hurt my brother. My mind crumbled and my knees trembled more and more with every word that they slowly revealed to us, telling us more and more about how they can't be sure what the final outcome would be yet, but his hearing would be undoubtedly damaged. For now, the pain would be managed, and he would need to be surrounded by as much silence and peace as we could offer him. No television. No loud talking. No swimming. Bathing with ear plugs. No sports. No music. No tour. We couldn't even fly home, we would have to make the long drive in the bus, a trip that would be the longest feeling to date.

Everything that we had come to know, was being yanked out from under us, and replaced with a laundry list of denials, each one bringing with it, pain to a young boy, robbed of his childhood, robbed of the rest of his life. The gravity of the situation was settling with a nauseating heaviness, and I stumbled my way into a chair, my head spinning as I buried my face in my hands, my body trembling as my chest heaved, I felt myself cracking, I was breaking.

“It's going to be okay, Tay.” My dad whispered, placing his hand on the back of my shoulder, sitting down beside me.

I choked on a sob as my eyes poured over, hot tears soaking my cheeks in silvery rivers. My father wrapped his arms around me, a rare gesture from him, but I was lost, I barely felt it as he pulled me to him. Stiff, robotic movements, my arms found their way around him, but I felt no comfort as he held me. The tears seemed endless, and I finally managed to look at Isaac. His face was in his hands while my mother stroked his back and spoke quietly. When everything to be said had been said, there still remained more.

“Where's Zac now?” I swallowed, wiping at my cheeks and nose with my hundredth tissue of the morning.

“Waiting in a bed. We can take him home tonight.”

It would be a long day. The longest of my life. I remember how heavy it felt, it was crushing, and the pain is something etched like a sored brand in my mind. I don't remember much of what the doctors told us, a thorough explanation and their best guess at a prognosis, but it was of course, very preliminary. More of the nightmare would only be uncovered in time, that day had been the tip of a very large ice berg.

That day would be the first day of the rest of our lives. The last of the ones we seemed to leave behind. I felt robbed. I felt a little cheated. Music had never been supposed to hurt us, music was what I turned to when I needed to heal. I felt betrayal, I felt anger, in the moment, I didn't feel guilt for the fans that would be devastated to know that the shows were cancelled. When we were finally able to see him, I felt as though I was meeting him again for the first time, it felt a little bit surreal, out of body, as I wandered into the hospital room with a lump in my throat.

“Zac” I mumbled quietly as I wandered over to him on the bed.

“Hey Tay.” His voice was surprisingly calm, but I knew that he had been given anti-anxiety medication for the battery of tests that he had been put through. Zac would have been a mess without the drugs, but I felt a little awkward knowing that my brother wasn't really himself in the moment, ultimately, it would be the calm before the storm.

I tried desperately to think of something to say to him, but I felt lost. Instead, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close to me. He hesitated before hugging me back.

“Tay?” He whispered.

“What is it, Zac?” I asked him softly.

“I'm sorry about the shows.”

“Zac!” I gasped, pulling back from him. “I don't care about the shows. I'm not mad.”

Zac frowned. “I am. I don't want to miss the shows.”

“We have to, sweetie.” My mother had interjected. “Your ears need to rest.”

“Bu-”

“Zac.” I said, reaching for his arm.

“There will be other shows.” My dad interrupted.

I looked to him, and his eyes found mine, and at that moment, I knew that he wasn't sure of what he was saying. He shouldn't have promised the music to Zac, he shouldn't have told him that there would be another time. I knew that there wouldn't be a time, I knew it by then, there would be no other shows. But that didn't mean that any of us were ready to believe it. None of us were quite ready, could be quite ready, for the way our lives were about to change.

The day moved in a blur, with a few more tests still scheduled for Zac, we were ushered out of the room and he was pulled away from us. His eyes found mine as I watched him descend down the hall, instead of the fear I expected, I saw a hollowness. We left Zac at the hospital, my parents on the phone with our tour manager and public relations manager, sharing with them the unfortunate news. I could tell from the way my parents would sigh and groan that the executives in charge of managing us and controlling our media coverage and touring schedule were not too happy about the change of plans – but what could be done? We ended up receiving “Get Well” cards with generous gifts in the mail from them, but it all seemed very phony, they never really cared.

When the tour bus was packed up and ready for us, it was time to pick up Zac from the hospital. My parents told Isaac and I to wait at the bus, and I had no energy to argue, even though I wanted nothing more than to see Zac and know that he was safe with us, and not in a strange hospital bed. It was going to be a long ride home from Canada to Tulsa, but I didn't expect that the boredom would be the first thing on our mind. I slipped into my bunk and stared at the ceiling, feeling the minutes pass by as I waited for him, feeling so tired while I lay against my soft bed but knowing sleep wouldn't come easily, not when my mind was so congested with worry. I tossed and turned until finally, I heard the tour bus door open and I sat up so quickly that I cracked my head against the ceiling, moaning loudly in pain.

Zac wasn't much in the mood for talking, or doing anything. The drugs he had been given were making him sleepy, and he wanted his bed with his pillow more than anything. His bunk was above mine, and I wrapped my arms around him when he meandered over, after what felt like ages of my parents talking to him, reminding him what time he needed to wake up and take more medication. I hugged him tightly until he squirmed out of my grasp.

“I'm tired, Tay.”

I frowned. “I know. Sorry. Do you need help up into your bunk?”

Zac looked at me with a furrowed brow, as if I'd grown a third head. “No?” He asked. “I hurt my ears, not my legs.” A small smile.

I licked my lips nervously as my skin burned. I was so worried about him that I was ready to do every little thing for him, but Zac's always been stubborn, he won't take help unless he really needs it. Not much more was said before Zac pulled himself up into his bunk and pulled the curtain closed. I wondered if he was really sleeping, knowing how much he usually loved to watch the little tv up there, but when I got up to get a bottle of water, I heard his soft snoring from behind the drawn curtain.

I had been a little bit envious of how easily he was able to rest, considering that I had ended up taking a few sleeping pills that day to finally find some relief. Overall, at first, he didn't seem as worried or nervous as anyone else was, but I knew that was because of the drugs. It hadn't really sunk in at that point. I swallowed the bitter pills and took a few long gulps of water before finding my way back to my bunk. I picked up a magazine and flipped through the pages, unable to focus, but thankfully, my eyelids became heavier and heavier until I slipped into medicated sleep.

I woke up later, being shaken by a smaller hand, warm fingers on my bare arm and then I heard a hauntingly familiar sob. It was Zac. I snapped my eyes open quickly, seeing the inky black sky outside the window and knowing that I had been asleep awhile. I had felt groggy as I sat up, but the sound of Zac's quiet crying was jolting me awake with a nauseating heaviness in my chest.

“Zac?” I whispered, my voice cracking a bit with sleep. “What's wrong? Come in here”

I reached out and pulled him into my bunk, closing the curtain behind him.

“What's wrong?” Talk to me” I told him, my heart racing as he climbed into my arms and buried his wet cheeks in my shirt.

“T-Tay” He sobbed, body trembling as he held onto me for dear life, it was as though he was drowning, fighting to stay above the surface of the ocean of fear he was surrounded by. “I'm sc-scared. I don't want to stop playing music. I don't want to go deaf.”

Zac had always come to me when he was scared, when he was afraid, and I was usually able to be the hero that rescued him. I told off neighbourhood bullies and rescued balls from branches he couldn't reach. I helped him learn to ride with two wheels when Isaac teased him for having trainers, and I taught him to play soccer. This was something I wasn't able to help Zac with, and the feeling of disparity was immense. My heart broke, both of us knew that even I, couldn't save him. But I would try.


	11. The Listener - Ten

Title: The Listener  
Part: Ten  
Genre:Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV:Taylor  
Rating: NC-17  
Warnings: Graphic sexual situations. Smutfest! A little kinky – dom! Tay. Don't want to spoil but it's vanilla marshmallow fluff compared to Eden. Nothing cray-cray.  
Authors Note:This chapter is set in 'present' tense (prologue), which is around present time now, but feel free to imagine the boys appearances the way you want. The chapters will alternate (maybe not always exactly 1:1) between present time, and Taylor's recollection of past events. It will be noted but pretty obvious anyway.  
Word Count: 4084  
PS: Please, please, please comment. I love feedback. I worked my tail off on this chapter, I hope it shows. :)

Zac's eyes open as the mattress shifts beneath us, and I slink towards him, on my hands and knees. My cheeks are burning as I watch his tongue slowly lick a little stray frosting off of his plump lower lip, and my heart races as I move closer to him. His body trembles a little bit beneath me as I throw one leg over his hip, my crotch rubbing against his and I close my eyes as I feel myself hardening already. I inhale, the smell of his cologne mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate makes my mouth water, and I feel my shoulders trembling as I hover above him, my eyes wandering down to his full lips. There's a little dob of chocolate on the furthest corner of his mouth, and he inhales sharply as I move closer to him. My mouth covers his and he groans, both of our eyes closing and I'm surrounded by blackness as my tongue finds that chocolate, tasting the sweetness melt on my tongue. I need more of him, the kiss becoming urgent as I pull his lower lip between mine and suck. The frosting is set down with a shaking hand, I don't want any of it on the sheets, but his chocolatey fingers find my t shirt and I try to resist saying anything. The feeling of his nails digging into my shoulders is a welcome distraction, one that i return by pushing my hips down against his and pulling another wonderful groan from those pretty lips of his. Finally, we needed pause for breath, and I pulled away from him. Curious, sparkling brown eyes met mine and I licked my lips.

“What do you think you're doing with my frosting?”

Zac's lips stretch into an impish grin, his cheeks staining pink as he reaches again for the can. I watch as his pink tongue washes over the swollen, kissed flesh, and he dips a finger into the thick dessert.

“Eating it.” He says rather matter of factly, before popping his finger between his lips with a smacking sound.

“You're bad.” I tell him, leaning closer and feeling his body tremble a little bit when my lips find the edge of his jaw.

His skin is sweet, even without the chocolate frosting, and my own body is trembling as I create a trail of soft, damp kisses over his warm skin.

“Why?” He questions, voice shaking a little bit when he's finished sucking on his finger, every last bit of chocolate cleaned from his skin.

I sit up, running my fingers slowly up his arms and feeling him tremble again beneath me. Our eyes meet and he gives me a shy smile. “Why am I bad?” He whispers, his voice deadly soft.

“Because.” I tell him, swallowing. “I was going to make you cupcakes...”

“Oh” Zac nods, cheeks staining a bit. “Well... I won't eat it all.” He smiles as he sticks his finger into the frosting again and I roll my eyes.

Leaning down, I place a few more kisses along his neck as I hear him greedily lick the rich chocolate frosting off of his finger. He swallows and sucks on his skin and I feel myself grow harder, rocking my hips down against his as I graze my teeth over his ear lobe. The way he reacts will tell me how badly he wants this, is he in the mood to have me again? I need to be sure, because I know that once I start, I'll have a very hard time stopping if he changes his mind. Zac groans loudly, sticky fingers finding my hair and I grimace as I imagine the chocolate in my freshly shampooed strands. Zac's hips rock up against mine and my thoughts are erased, replaced instead with white-hot heat, racing through me as I feel how hard he is, pushed up against me.

“D-do you want some?” Zac's voice pulls me out of my daze and I look up.

Smouldering brown eyes and red cheeks, his finger has dipped into the chocolate again, a thick dob smeared on the end of the shaking digit. I feel my mouth water as my eyes rest on his finger and I nod, feeling a little out of breath. I expect him to bring his finger to my mouth for me to suck, and I had every intention of sucking on his finger with as much excitement as one could, sure to wash every trace of milk chocolate from his skin... But instead, Zac brings his finger slowly to his chest, and smears a line of chocolate across his dark nipple. A surge of heat, a rush of blood to my head and I'm consumed by him, I am powerless to do anything but bring my mouth to his skin. As my lips graze his sun kissed skin, I feel tight fingers in my hair, pulling me up. I meet his eyes, confused, but all at once, he thrusts the chocolate covered finger to my lips.

“First, suck.”

He wants to be bossy, and if it weren't for my rock hard erection, pushing down against his own, I probably would have shown him some manners. But instead, I'm powerless to him, driven by the burn in my groin that only throbs more and more as I push my hips against him and suck his finger into my mouth. Zac's grip on my hair tightens as I wash his finger with my tongue, tasting the richness of the chocolate combined with the taste of him. I swirl my tongue around him, closing my eyes as I imagine it was another part of him. I hear him groan and then his hand falls away from his hair and he pulls the finger from my mouth. Our eyes meet, his cheeks are flushed, lips parted as he breathes heavily and I give him a small smile before lowering my lips to his collar bone. I take my time, creating a slow path as I kiss over his skin. The chocolate is only a matter of inches away from me, but I have every intention of taking the longest route possible, something that Zac has come to realize, and is already protesting as he squirms beneath me.

“T-Tay” He whimpers.

“Shh” I whisper, my breath falling against his chest and I'm sure that he can feel it and know, because he can't see me, his eyes are tightly closed, his head pushed back against the pillow.

A few more presses of my lips against his skin before I taste my first hint of chocolate. I look up, watching him as he squirms beneath me. His eyes are still closed, and I wonder what it's like, to be completely surrounded by darkness, darkness and my lips, nothing else. He can't hear me, he can't hear the sound of the lake outside and the hum of the boats that fly across it. He's oblivious to the birds that sing outside the window, the whistle of the wind through the leafy trees, he's oblivious to everything except for my touch, my mouth, and the way he feels. For some, it might be terrifying, for me... I think that's the sexiest thing in the world. I'm a little envious. Every reaction of his, seems amplified, the way he jumps when my lips find the tip of his areola and brush over the sensitive skin. I hear him cry a soft whimper and my cock strains against the front of my pants, my hips bucking down against him and pulling upwards, the pull of the friction causing me to shake. My tongue slides through the thick frosting, he trembles beneath me and I feel the hardened stone of his nipple. Zac cries out and his fingers pull at my hair as I capture the sensitive bud between my lips. One thing Zac loves, absolutely loves, is for his nipples to be played with. They say when you lose one of your senses, your other ones become heightened. If Zac's reactions to the way I touch him, kiss him, taste him... are any indication, I'd say we'd all be envious of the way I can make him feel.

“Tay” He groans as I suck the now clean nipple into my mouth, every bit of chocolate gone, but he's still sweet, I love the way he tastes without anything else at all. “More.”

I look up in time to see his thick finger dip into the pot again, and by this time, I know the can of frosting isn't salvageable, not that I really want to use it after all the attention it's already seen. Baking is the last thing on my mind though as he slides the finger over his skin, leaving a smear of chocolate over his nipple. I bring my mouth down to his skin, looking up as I just brush my lips over him without tasting yet. He trembles, eyes closing and mouth falling open as he takes deep breaths. Slowly, very slowly, I allow my tongue to wander out and taste him, the sweetness melting on my tongue again and Zac groans loudly. This time, chocolatey fingers reach for the duvet, and I feel my body burn with something other than desire – chocolate on my freshly washed, very expensive, white duvet. He's going to need to be punished for that. I lick the last of the chocolate away and then sink my teeth into the little stone of flesh. He gasps and squirms beneath me and I tug slowly as I raise my eyes, finding his.

“Look what you did to my duvet.” I said, pointing to the thick smear of chocolate on the otherwise pristine, snow white fabric.

Zac's cheeks turn a deeper shade and he looks at me, sheepishly. “I'm sorry?” He offers, raising a brow.

I shake my head. “Sorry isn't going to cut it.” He's watching my lips move, watching them form each deadly word, and I'm watching as he crumbles beneath the utter of each one. A little more of his resolve, slipping away as he grows nervous. Zac may not hear my tone, but he knows that I'm speaking in a way that means something serious, I can see it from the nervousness that crosses his beautiful features that he understands the tone I'm using. “Get on your knees, I'm going to have to punish you.”

Zac pauses for a moment, his skin turning an even deeper shade of red as the embarrassment flushes through him. I watch as he anxiously washes his tongue over those swollen lips. “What are you going to do to me?”

I raise a brow. “I don't think speaking was part of your orders, on your knees, love.”

I smile as I say the last word, to remind him to trust me, he needs to trust me. I would never hurt him, and he knows that, deep down. I certainly don't mind the anxiety that I can cause to creep through him though, it's a charming contrast to the smug confidence he was possessing before when he ordered me to suck on his finger. He's obeying now, and he's beautiful, long hair spilling over the handsome features of his face as he rests on his hands and knees. My eyes trace over every inch of him, studying the muscles in his broad shoulders, the arch of his back and the way it narrows before it becomes his full, around ass. My eyes linger on that certain area of him for perhaps a moment longer than they should, but I can't help it. Reaching out, my fingers grasp the edge of his waistband and yank the thin material down over his hips in one swift motion. The bare skin of his full ass is exposed to me and I can feel the blood rush to my cock, growing harder in my too-tight pants as my eyes swim over his skin.

“T-tay” His voice is soft, nervous.

Leaning over him, my lips find a soft, small spot on the back of his neck and I lay a gentle kiss there.

“Shhh” I soothe, the breath tickling his skin as I whisper a comfort that he can't hear.

I place a few careful kisses along his neck as my hands slide over his arms, feeling his warm skin beneath my touch, and feeling him tremble as I skim my way onto his sides. He squirms, his hips pushing back a bit towards me as I let my fingers slide lower, kissing my way over his shoulders now. My teeth graze his skin once before I slide up onto my knees behind him, my hands on his hips, I hold him.

“Tay?” He says after a moment, turning his head back towards me.

“I won't hurt you. But I need to punish you. Do you trust me?”

A moment passes in silence before he finally nods. I feel my body burn as my lips twitch their way into a small smile. I think about his punishment for a moment, wondering what his act deserves.

“Chocolate on my duvet. Ten spankings?”

Zac's lips part for a moment, as if he's going to say something, and then he closes them again. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes hold my gaze for a moment as he swallows.

“Okay” He finally says. “I deserve that.”

For a moment, I wonder if I'm being too hard on him, but then there's the familiar twitch in the corner of his mouth. A shy smile, a smile from a naughty boy who isn't quite ready to admit that he loves every second of this. He'll play innocent, there's the tremble as my fingers slide up his sides a few inches. I would tell him that he's a naughty boy, but he can't hear me. I press my finger nails against his skin and hear him whimper. It's time.

Sitting back on the balls of my feet, I survey my canvas with my eyes. My cock is hard as a rock, straining against the front of my pants as I study every perfect inch of him. It's almost a shame that I'm about to do what I am, but I can't resist, and I know that if I don't do it soon, he'll be begging. He wants this as much as I do. It's one of his dirty little secrets, one of the ones that we share. Zac can have an attitude at times, he can be incredibly stubborn and perhaps a little immature at times. A short fuse and a sharp mouth, he's a boy that needs to be put in his place sometimes, and I feel I'm the perfect one to do so. Not much turns me on more than taking control of my sometimes unruly brother and reminding him just who really is the boss...

Spank!

The sound of my palm against his backside fills the room, but he's deaf to it, though not unresponsive, of course. Zac's body jumps forward on the bed a little bit, and I watch as his fingers tighten against the (stained) duvet.

Spank!

There's a spatter of redness against the soft skin now, and my body burns as my eyes linger on it. My heart is racing and his breathing is sharp, short.

Spank!

A soft whimper falls from those thick lips of his and his head bows further, hair falling in front of his face as he clutches the blanket.

Spank! Spank!

Two this time and my mind is reeling. We're halfway through now, five spanks, and he's being such a good boy. He deserves a reward, really, a treat. Leaning down, I press a few soft kisses to the small of his back as my fingertips slide down the back of his thighs. Zac trembles beneath me, hips shifting, and I slide a hand around his hips and my fingers graze the hard shaft of his cock. Zac turns his head, his eyes find mine.

“You're so naughty. You love being spanked, don't you?” I ask as I wrap my fingers around his shaft and give him a squeeze.

Zac's eyes flutter closed, his eyelashes tickling his soft, reddened cheeks. He doesn't answer, but the silence gives me a moment to gather a new idea. I smile as I reach for his wrist, and his eyes find mine as I guide his hand towards his own cock. He stares at me silently for a moment, confused, but when I push his fingers around himself, he seems to get the idea.

“Touch yourself.”

Zac trembles as he wraps his fingers around himself, head bowing further and body trembling as he begins to pleasure himself. It's torturously hot to watch him, my own cock straining and I'm fighting the urge to reach down and give it just a tiny rub... But instead, I distract myself by raising a hand behind him, and then bringing it down against him.

Spank!

Zac's hips buck, pushing himself into his hand and a little groan from his mouth. I can't help but whimper a little myself as I watch him, my mind becoming hazy before I raise my hand again.

Spank spank!

Oops. I was a little rougher that time than I intended, and a little hissing moan falls from my brothers mouth. His hand slows and his body trembles. Leaning forward, I quickly press a few kisses against the back of his shoulders. Zac turns his head slowly as his hand pauses.

“I didn't tell you to stop. Keep going.”

“T-tay...” A soft protest. “I...”

“You've been so good, baby.” I whisper, placing another damp kiss against his skin. “Just two more.”

A moment of silence, a soft sigh, and finally Zac nods. I move my hand to cover his, guiding the first stroke and moving my hand away when he continues the motion. He's such a good boy. I bite my lip, adjusting myself a bit and closing my eyes at the slightest contact. I want to bury myself inside of him and fill him, but this is about him, and I've had him once already today and I'm afraid of hurting him. I raise my hand and see him flinch a little. Reaching out, I caress the small of his back with one hand until his shoulders relax a bit, and then when he's least expecting it...

Spank!

Zac groans and pushes himself into his hand. His fingers are moving quick now, pumping himself in quick, hearty strokes that are making him pant. Chest heaving and shoulders trembling. His skin is covered in a deep flush, and best of all, his backside is painted with deep red splotches that I've put there myself. There's only one spank left and I decide to drag this out a little bit. Zac's breathing is quick and short, he's anticipating the last of his punishment and he's stroking himself faster and faster, pushing himself closer to the edge. Sliding my hand lower, my fingers slip between his cheeks. Zac's body tenses a bit and his hand pauses. He's wondering what I'm doing, but I don't feel like giving that away. Very carefully, very gently, my fingers slide down his sensitive skin and his hips buck when they find his puckered entrance.

“Tay...” A soft voice, and then smouldering dark eyes turn to find mine.

I give him a sly smile. “Touch yourself.” I remind him. “I didn't tell you to stop.”

“I'm....” Zac's voice is soft as his fingers start again, words turning into a soft moan as his hips buck towards his hand. His eyes close and he moves his hand faster, pushing his thumb against his cock's swollen head. “I'm close Tay... Are you sure you want to waste this like this?”

“It's not a waste, love...” I remind him, sliding my fingers towards his entrance again and smiling as I hear him hiss softly.

I carress the sensitive skin there for a moment before pushing the tip of my finger against him. I slide in just a little bit and he's tight – so tight. Zac moans, a low, throaty moan as he squeezes himself harder.

“It's never a waste if I can make you come.” I continue.

Zac nods, closing his eyes as he continues to stroke himself. Bringing the fingers of my other hand to my mouth, I quickly suck on one of them before bringing it to him again. Zac whimpers as I brush my wet finger tip against him and I circle the area for a moment, teasing him. I see his body trembling, I see the twitch in his balls and the way they tug upwards. He's close, I know his every sign, his body's every clue. And for that, I pull my hand away, raising it above him, and bring it down against his ass quickly.

Spank!

The final spank, and Zac cries out the loudest this time of all. “Fuck, Tay!” He groans.

Oh, he's so naughty, and I wish I could tell him that, but he's not looking at me. His head is bowed, hair framing his beautiful features as he pumps his fist wildly against his shaft. His hips buck and quickly, I slide the moistened finger towards him. Without hesitation, I plunge the digit inside of him, feeling how hot and tight he is, wrapped around me is nearly enough to make me cum then and there, and as I curl the tip of my finger inside of him, it's all it takes to push him over the edge as well.

“Tay!” Zac cries out as his hips buck roughly forward and he lets out a strangled moan as his body trembles.

Four thick loads of cum land on the already messy duvet and his knuckles have blanched, he's gripping the blanket so tightly as he trembles violently. I lean over him, wrapping my arms around him and placing soft kisses against his neck.

“Zac” I whisper against his skin.

He doesn't seem to notice, but he pushes his body back against mine and slowly, collapses into my grasp. We lay down, and as he trembles in my arms, I allow my finger tips to trace over his quivering muscles slowly. Zac's eyes are closed as I trace a path along his arm and then over his dampened chest.

“Damn” He finally mumbles.

I smile and pull at him, trying to get him to roll over. He takes the hint and turns towards me, lazy dark eyes finding mine and he gives me a sloppy, happy smile.

“I love you.” He smiles. “That was...” His words trail off as his cheeks flush.

I chuckle softly. “I can't believe you got chocolate on our good duvet.” I say, pretending to be cross.

Zac shrugs and gives me a sheepish smile. “I don't really think you mind, do you?” He raises a brow as one of his hands slides out and moves over my thigh. My cock twitches as his finger tips creep closer and closer to it.

“N-No.” My voice trembles as I reply, my eyes fluttering closed as the air is pulled from my lungs, replaced with a burning desire, freshly ignited.

“That's what I thought.” He smiles before snuggling his way closer to me, lips finding the side of my neck and placing a few kisses there as his hand slides further up my thigh before his palm covers my erection. “Let me take care of you.”


	12. The Listener - Eleven

Title:The Listener (Working title, subject to change)  
Part: Eleven  
Genre: Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV: Taylor  
Rating:PG-13  
Warnings: Don't jump to conclusions.  
Authors Note:This chapter is written as a 'past tense' recollection by Taylor, the same as chapter one. This will alternate (perhaps not always 1:1) but be noted. Enjoy!  
Word Count: 2592

Mid August, 1997.

Of course, things were different after the accident. You couldn't possibly expect me to tell you otherwise, could you? Six weeks. Forty two days. Forty two days of silence, sort of like a sick preview of what the rest of his life would be like, I sometimes thought when I was feeling morbid. Dark thoughts surrounded me during those forty two days, I wondered how something we loved so much – music – could possibly hurt us the way it had. Sure, Zac was the only one that had been physically damaged, and sure, it was an accident. He had played, knowing that he only had one ear plug, and he played, knowing that it was a risk. How could he not have? I asked myself over and over, why hadn't he told someone sooner? We could have found him another plug.

He had been afraid.

He had been afraid of disappointing us.

Growing up, Zac seemed to get in trouble a lot. With more energy than he knew what to do with, my parents ran out of patience more times than anyone would like to admit. As much as Zac had always loved music, he was young, and it was hard for him to spend hours focusing on practicing music. There were plenty of times when myself, I felt frustrated that we had another two hours of our four a day to finish, before we could go outside for a little while, and then resume our home schooling. Before music, we had time to run around outside, to play with our friends and be kids. Hot summer days, chasing each other on wet grass with Super Soaker guns, laughing until our cheeks hurt. Exhausted, we'd eat popsicles and draw with sidewalk chalk. We'd pedal our bikes up the big hill to get to the field with the trails, chasing each other over rocks and between trees. I enjoyed music, and the opportunities awarded to us through it are something I wouldn't trade for the world, but, there were things that existed before music, that I lost. I buried my childhood in the words of our songs, vented my frustration against the keys of my piano and sang my heart out because it still felt good, despite missing everything else. Music still brought me happiness, happiness enough to cover the longing to just be a kid, but for Zac, it was a little harder. He was younger, he had more energy, and less self control. I wanted to stand up for him, to tell my parents to just let him go outside and play a little bit, or let him go draw or do something else, but I usually didn't have the courage.

Zac tried hard to be good on most days, I could tell that he was hurt when my parents scolded him, I could see it in the way his cheeks turned a deep shade of burgundy and sometimes his eyes got a little glassy. But all of those things were behind us then, and the way my parents treated him could not be further from the way it had been before.

Zac was a boy made of glass. They cradled him, the way that they attended to his every need, he barely left his room. At first, I could tell that he enjoyed the special attention, and I knew that my parents didn't know that he was playing his Gameboy underneath his blanket or in the closet. I didn't have the heart to tattle on him, they'd taken everything else from him. Our shared bedroom was littered with books, my parents drove to the book store nearly every day to buy him more. Comic books and graphic novels were the only ones that really caught Zac's interest, but, none the less, they bought him books from nearly every genre, it was like my own little library in there, and they didn't know that I'd read nearly all of them in those forty two days, and he'd maybe finished six chapters of one (but, devoured all of the comic books.)

And then there were the toys, by day thirty, Zac had every Lego set that Toys'R'Us stocked. They'd started ordering in specialty ones, but, even Zac was growing tired of them. I tried to spend as much time with him as I could, keeping him company, but as each day passed, the brother that I knew, was slipping further and further away, into someone that I wasn't so sure of. His usual playful energy had turned to something with malice, he'd cut you off or boss you around without much care, he was pent up, frustrated and bored, but it hurt to be his verbal punching bag. There was only so much I could take, and the time I spent with him, became less and less. So, my parents bought him more, and more.

I remember some of the days more clearly than others, counting each one in my head. Forty two days. And then Zac would visit the doctor again, and see if the damage had progressed, if it hadn't, he'd be allowed to start living normally – with some limitations. It wasn't the television or the movies that he missed, or the sound on his video games, it was something much more vital than those things. Music. The very thing that we were saturated with before, was the thing we longed most for now. It felt like taunting if I played my piano, knowing that he could hear the loud, beautiful notes from anywhere in the house, and Isaac strummed the strings of his acoustic guitar in the same way you'd touch a newborn, gingerly, carefully, delicately. He dared to do that for the first time on day twenty one, after three weeks. The longest any of us had ever gone without touching our instruments. It felt unfaithful to Zac, it felt like cheating, but I just couldn't help it. I'd follow Isaac down into the lower basement, ignoring the dampness in the air and the dim lighting. We shared an old couch and for the first couple of days, I just listened to Isaac play, softly, so softly. I sang along sometimes, but most of the times, it felt empty without hearing Zac's drum behind us. On day twenty four, I asked Isaac if he'd teach me to play. We pulled his spare guitar out, an acoustic Martin with a dark cherry body. It felt foreign in my hands, my fingers wrapping around the cool neck, and I pressed hesitantly down on the strings. Isaac taught me chord after chord, and then taught me different strumming patterns. By day thirty, I could play a couple of songs. By day forty two, I had learned the entire Middle of Nowhere album.

As much as I enjoyed playing with Isaac, there was something missing – my brother. On top of how softly we were playing, there was a quietness, a stillness about the time we shared together. We were both a little hesitant, both a little bit nervous, as though we couldn't quite get comfortable, knowing that we were leaving someone very important out. Bittersweet.

On day thirty seven, Ashley called and asked Isaac and I if we wanted to join him and some other friends at the soccer field. After the band took off, going out in public became obviously more difficult. Ashley promised that the field was in a deserted park at the other side of town, and that it was unlikely we'd be bothered. My parents were hesitant, but finally agreed to let Isaac and I go. A taste of freedom.

On the soccer field, my spirits soared. I ran around, chasing Isaac and the other guys that had come to play, nearly a dozen. I was one of the younger ones, but I was used to hanging out with people older than me, and no one else had ever seemed to mind either. It almost felt like flying as I ran across the short grass, my heart pumping hard in my chest as I raced after the black and white ball and kicked it clear across the field, a cheer rose as Isaac met it, and guided it towards the goal.

Ashley had been mostly right about the park being a quiet, desolate place. It wasn't until an hour in that we saw our first company, a pair of teenagers that were crossing the field towards us. They seemed fairly harmless, Isaac and I silently decided as we shared a glance and a shrug. But as the game progressed, I found my eyes, through the tint of my sunglasses, wandering back to them again and again, they were watching. The game slowed and I sauntered over to Ashley and Isaac, breathing heavily as I looked again at the two dark haired teenagers. The girl looked to be about my age, with dark brown hair pulled back into a low pony tail, and her brother, a little taller with a short cut of the same shade hair. They seemed harmless – they hadn't approached neither Isaac or I, but their presence made me a little anxious.

“Do you think they want to play?”

“We don't need any girls...” One of Ashley's friends groaned.

“We could ask.” Isaac said, looking over at the girl, a smile creeping over his thin lips as he spoke. “I wouldn't mind if she played.”

I rolled my eyes at my brother, out of the three of us, he was certainly the one that enjoyed our new found female attention the most. Isaac had always been a charmer, he'd had a girlfriend the summer before we went into the studio who he bought four dozen roses for with our first real paycheck. When he found out that she had a crush on me, he broke up with her promptly, and despite being upset initially, he was fifteen and before long, there was someone else, young hearts heal fast.

“I'll ask them.” Ashley volunteered. “That cool?”

A mix of shrugs and nods was the verdict, and I watched as Ashley crossed the field. Isaac was watching also, his eyes glued to the slender, dark haired girl. She was pretty, I thought to myself, but there was something curious about her. Call it intuition. The prettiest smile spread over her lips and I realized then that I loved her smile, feeling at ease after that, the mystery girl no longer intimidating, but still peculiar, none the less. From the way they were grinning, both the girl and what I (correctly) presumed to be her brother, it was obvious that they wanted to play.

“Hey guys, this is Tegan and her brother, Mason. They're gonna play ball with us.” Ashley smiled as he introduced them.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Isaac.” My brother was the first one to reach for her hand, and I saw a faint stain of pink on her cheek as she reached for his extended hand.

Isaac and I were both wearing sunglasses and ordinary clothes, and neither Tegan nor Mason seemed to question that we were anyone except ordinary teenagers.

“Are you new to town?” Isaac asked Tegan as we walked back out onto the field, everyone having properly introduced themselves by then.

“Sort of. We just moved back from South America, we were travelling with our dad's company.”

That sounded familiar. When we were younger, my father worked for a Tulsa based oil company called Helmerich and Payne, and the job had us travelling both all over the country, as well as out. We lived briefly in Venezuela and Trinidad-Tobago when we were young boys. I glanced to Tegan, feeling a connection to this new girl now, we had something in common.

“Does he work for Helmerich and Payne?”

“How'd you guess?” Tegan smiled at my brother, her brown eyes finding his as she grinned.

“Our dad used to work there too.” Isaac smiled back, and as I watched him, I felt a little bit envious about how easily he seemed to be able to talk to girls, he always knew what to say and how to make them smile.

Meanwhile, I sauntered behind, just close enough that I could listen to their conversation but feeling too shy to add anything to it. Despite talking to reporters and journalists all the time, methodically answering the same questions over and over, I have always been a little on the quieter, shy side. Music has always been like a security blanket, both then, and even now. I was especially quiet and awkward then, but thankfully, there was no time to talk as Mason raced after the ball that Ashley had given the first kick to.

As we chased the ball around the field, it became obvious that both Mason and Tegan were exceptional soccer players. Tegan had joined my team, and despite her early interactions with Isaac, she and I were working well together, passing the ball back and forth to carry it together to the goal. Almost an hour had slipped by, and fatigue was starting to wear on everyone, the sun was hot and we were tired and soaked with sweat.

We decided to call it quits not long after Tegan and I scored our last goal, and I sauntered over to a bench, pulling my water bottle out of the backpack I'd left there. As I unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to my lips, I saw a figure approaching from the corner of my eye.

“Good game” Tegan smiled, standing in front of me.

Swallowing, I looked up at her and gave her a shy smile. “You too.”

Feeling the sweat on my face, I decided to pull my sunglasses off. I had forgotten all about Tegan recognizing me by then, but when her brown eyes found my blues and held my gaze for a curious moment, I couldn't help but be reminded of my worries. I felt my heart speeding up as we stared at each other for another long moment.

“You have really nice eyes.” She finally smiled. “I never would have guessed they were blue. Your brother Isaac's eyes are brown.”

I felt a deep, burning blush rise over my cheeks and my stomach knotted up a bit more. It wasn't the first time I had been complimented on my eyes, heck, the crazy fan girls went nuts over my “baby blues”, but the words felt different coming from Tegan, there was something different about than most girls that I had had the experience of meeting. I wasn't sure then if it was a good something, or a bad something, but it was a peculiar something, and rightly so. “Th-thanks. I like your smile.”

Tegan gave me a huge smile then, and I relaxed a little bit. Tegan hadn't been quite what I expected, and as it would turn out, she would be the start of a lot of things that I didn't quite expect.


	13. The Listener - Twelve

Title: The Listener  
Part: Twelve  
Genre: Slash/Hancest. A little canon, a little A/U?. Hanson *was* famous. No other siblings, no Natalie, no Kate.  
Pairing: Zaylor  
POV:Taylor  
Rating: PG-13 – Very soft R.  
Warnings: There's some kissing and sexual references/dialogue. Also, bacon. - Inspired by my lovely friend get_upand_go2  
Authors Note:This chapter is set in 'present' tense (prologue), which is around present time now, but feel free to imagine the boys appearances the way you want. The chapters will alternate (maybe not always exactly 1:1) between present time, and Taylor's recollection of past events. It will be noted but pretty obvious anyway.  
Word Count: 4783  
PS: Comments loved.

A Couple of Days Later (Loose time skip.)

A few days have slipped by since we've arrived at the cottage, and things are beginning to fall into routine. I rise early in the morning because the pastel sunrise feels like a luxury and I love the way it looks painted across the silhouettes of the tall trees, across the shimmering lake. The damp morning air surrounds me as I move down the steps, breathing deep as I clutch a warm mug of coffee in one hand. I like to take walks in the morning, they help my mind wake up slowly, remembering everything that I have to do as I saunter between trees on floor covered with a thick layer of fragrant pine needles. I pause at the edge of the lake, watching the waves roll slowly towards the rocky shore, splashing up against the jagged edges and then falling away again, almost like a battle, spar and retreat.

Zac came to me the night before, clutching the latest edition of one of the gaming magazines he subscribed to, his eyes sparkling with something that reeked of want. My suspicions correct, my brother asked me if I would mind driving into town to go to the video game shop. I had been looking forward to a quiet day, buried in the book that I'd bought the day before – on another trip to town. Zac doesn't have his drivers license, so I've become accustomed to driving him around, and I simply nodded, with a single condition – I only wanted to go to one place, and then come home so I could enjoy my book. He was satisfied with that, and he wrapped his arms around me, pressing a sloppy kiss to my mouth, and my annoyance slipped away like sugar in the rain.

Swallowing the last mouthful of coffee before the bottom of my coffee cup was revealed to me, that was my cue to turn back. Zac wouldn't be up for another couple of hours, he'd been up late playing something on his handheld console. Looking out at the lake, I give it a last glance before reaching for the squeaky door, listening to it groan above me and then shake as it fell closed. It would need replaced before long, but that was something I could worry about another time. My stomach grumbled as I sauntered into the kitchen, and pulling open the heavy door of the fridge, I surveyed the contents as I nibbled on my lower lip. I found a package of bacon in the crisper, taking that and the carton of eggs out. I set the frying pan on the stove and turn it on before reaching for a knife to open the bacon. Pulling the thick slices out of the package, I inhale the smoky scent and feel my stomach grumble again. The fat sizzles as I lay the pieces down in the pan and I can't help but lick my lips as I step away from the stove to let them cook. Bacon is one of my favourite foods, and if I know Zac, the smell will wake him up too. I smiled as I realized that the earlier Zac got up, the earlier we could go to town and the sooner I could find myself in my favourite chair on the dock with my novel.

I hear footsteps by the time I'm turning the bacon for the last time, and a sleepy Zac wanders into the kitchen, yawning as he adjusts his boxers a little bit.

“Bacon...” He says, looking at the pan and then back to me, a smile creeping across his lips, which are puffy from sleep.

“Good morning to you too.” I roll my eyes but smile playfully at him before stepping towards the pan and poking at the almost-done bacon.

A pair of strong, warm arms around me and I feel my body burn, my breath catching in my throat. I feel the tickle of the tip of his nose just below my ear lobe, and then the warmth of his breath. He's brushed his teeth already and the smell of peppermint is a sweet surprise. His soft lips find my neck and he pulls me a little bit closer to him, and by now, I can feel my body trembling and my cock stirring in my boxers. My body trembles as he presses a few gentle kisses against my skin, his hands sliding underneath my thin t shirt and brushing over my navel for the briefest of moments, just long enough to leave me with butterflies and a heart that is racing so fast I fear it may burst.

“Good morning.” He whispers, his voice low and husky.

And then he's gone, stepped back and I turn my blushing face to look at him, finding him grinning. He's such a god damn tease, and if the bacon wasn't about to burn, I might have done something about the rapidly forming erection hidden in my shorts, though likely not escaping his notice. I turn the stove off before lifting the pan and carrying it to the sink to drain the fat into a little can I've left there. Zac's sitting at the dining table in the centre of the kitchen, watching as I move back to the stove and set the pan down. He could offer to help I can't help but think to myself, but don't allow myself to be bothered by it as I reach for the roll of paper towel and make a bed to place the hot bacon on. I turned to Zac and held up the egg carton.

“How many?”

Zac held three fingers up and turning back, I pulled five eggs out of the carton and set them in a row. One after another, I hit them against the side of the pan, listening to the little shatter and then pulling them open. Bending down, I opened one of the cupboards to find a lid, and placed it over top of the pan of eggs to help them cook. Zac and I both liked our eggs sunny side up. Twisting off the tag on the bag of bread, I pull out several slices and drop each into a slot on the extra-large toaster. The eggs are finished before long, and Zac is pulling plates out of the cupboard. He hands me one and I smile at him.

“Thanks.”

Zac leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against my mouth before turning towards the stove and using the spatula to lift his eggs out of the pan. I take the two that are left and then survey the bacon. Zac has bombarded the pile of bacon with a force that even I didn't expect, leaving me less than half. I resist the urge to say anything, instead waiting until I've pulled out the chair next to him and when he's not paying attention, I reach forward and snag one of the pieces off of his plate. He doesn't hear me, and I grin as I bite down onto the bacon, sometimes, I do take advantage of his lack of hearing, I'm terrible, I know. Zac's noticed his bacon supply has diminished and is now looking at me with glimmering eyes.

“Hey.” He pouts.

“You're a bacon hog.” I counter, raising one brow as I pick up my fork and pull a piece of egg free.

Zac doesn't reply, instead just gives me a smile as he reaches for a piece of bacon and pops it into his mouth, finishing it in just two bites and then licking his fingers before reaching for another. Zac certainly wouldn't win any awards for table manners – maybe manners in general, but I have a hard time staying annoyed with him for long, it's just one of Zac's quirks that I've come to know and accept. When breakfast is finished, Zac drops his plate in the sink and then scurries off to his room to leave me to do the cleaning.

I'm drying the last coffee cup and setting it back onto the shelf when Zac whisks past me and heads for the stairs, going to the bathroom. The sound of the shower is next, and knowing that there's some time to kill before I'll be able to shower, I cross the kitchen and pour the last of the coffee into my cup, which I'd left unwashed, knowing that I'd probably have the last of the coffee while Zac got ready. Yesterday's paper is sitting on the coffee table in the living room, so I grab it before heading for the door. The morning sun is already growing hot, but I like the way the brightness of it dances on top of the lake like stars. Sitting down in one of the chairs at the table, I turn the pages to one of the sections that I hadn't gotten to yesterday.

“Tay?” Zac's voice pulls me out of the newspaper after an undeterminable amount of time has slipped by. “You can have the shower now. Do you want to go to town soon?”

I'm glad we're on the same page, and I get up from the chair and join him at the back door. “We'll go after my shower.” I tell him before I reach for the door to let us inside.

Knowing that there isn't a lot of hot water to spare, I shower as quickly as I can, washing my hair first and then covering myself in a thick layer of body wash, rubbing the lather into my skin. The water is still hot when the soap has all been washed away and my hair rinsed, but I stand under the spray for a few more greedy minutes anyway, wasting the last gallons until I can feel the spray start to grow colder, and colder, and that's when I turn it off with a squeak. My fluffy towel is waiting for me, and I rub it into my shaggy hair before drying off and wrapping it around my hips.

I can feel Zac's eyes following me as I descend the stairs, he's watching from the kitchen, his eyes resting on my navel and wandering lower. I blush as I realize exactly what his stare implies and look again to him, noting the flush on his cheeks and the darkness of his eyes. But he wants to go to town, so we're going to go to town. I walk down the short hallway to our bedroom at the end and pull open the dresser drawers, finding a pair of shorts and a striped shirt that I like. After I've finished looping my belt through my shorts, I reach for the necklaces I took off last night. The lightning bolt first, the star of David second, and then finally, my blank handkerchief gets tied loosely around my neck on top.

“Ready to go?” I ask, sauntering into the kitchen and reaching to pluck my car keys from the little hook on the wall.

“Yeah” Zac smiles, getting up from the kitchen table and patting his pocket to see that his wallets there.

The drive is quiet, so I reach forward and turn up the volume on the radio, not that he can hear it, as he's chosen not to wear his aids again. The trees surround us with leafy green walls and Zac's nose is practically pressed to the window to take it all in, there are lots of deer that live in the thick, remote woods, but they're shy and it's a rare treat to see one. He reminds me a little bit of a child, or maybe a dog with it's head hanging out the window... simple pleasures. As we pull into town, the swarm of traffic causes a pang of pain to start in the back of my neck. I hate traffic, and the town is a bustling cottage destination. We manage to hit every single red light, but eventually make it to the GameStop on the far side of town. I pull the Range Rover into a spot in front of the store.

“Can I stay here? Will you be quick?” I ask, noticing not one, but two families with small children heading for the same doors that Zac will be. Patience with small children is sometimes not my forte, especially when I already have a bit of a headache and what I really want, is to be back home with my book.

Zac nods, “I'll be quick” he promises me.

Ten minutes pass before Zac comes back out, but, when my eyes find no bag clutched in his hands, my stomach drops. Oh no.

“They were sold out.” Zac says, looking thoroughly devastated.

“When will they have more? Did you ask?”

“Three days.”

“That's not so bad.” I tell him as I pull my seat belt around me.

“But Tay, I wanted it really bad.” Zac complains, his brown eyes wide and his lips thrust into a pout. “Can we go to the GameStop in Nowata? The guy called and they have a copy that they are going to hold.” Zac's words are fast, and there's disparity behind his words. “Please, Tay?”

I sigh. Nowata will take another thirty minutes to drive to, and then an entire hour back to get home. My initial reaction is to tell him no, that he can surely wait three days, with the stack of other games he has to play. But, from the way he's looking at me, I can tell that this is something that Zac really wants, and when Zac has made up his mind about something... there isn't much hope of holding a different opinion, at least, not without a fight. A fight that I really don't feel like having.

“Fine.” I sigh, turning the key in the ignition.

“Thanks, Tay.” Zac says quietly, before turning again towards the window and watching the city slip away as we head back to the highway.

Fortunately, the traffic on the highway is thinner than the congestion that plagued the town, and I find myself going a little bit faster than I probably should be as we sail towards Nowata. I slow down a little bit, but before long, we've arrived in the small town. The only problem, is that nothing looks familiar, not the McDonalds looming in front of me, nor the small grocery store on the right. I reach over and nudge Zac to get his attention.

“I can't remember where the GameStop is.”

“Um, the guy said that it was in a plaza with a Taco Bell.”

I looked around. I didn't see any Taco Bell's. Since driving around aimlessly and wasting gas in a Range Rover wasn't part of my agenda, I pull onto the side of the road and turn off the car, pulling out my iPhone to use the GPS. I've got the directions in less than a minute, and I put the car into drive, moving back out onto the road. The Taco Bell appears after a couple of minutes, and sure enough, there's a small GameStop nearby.

“I'll be quick.” Zac promises, reaching for the door before I've even turned the car off.

In just a couple minutes, he's returned, wearing a grin and clutching a plastic bag.

“Got it?” I ask him as he settles into the passenger seat.

“Yeah. Thanks, Tay.” He grins.

I smile back at him, deciding that it's hard to be too upset with him when he has such a cute smile. That's the way it usually is with him, and besides... I have the rest of the day to myself. As we're driving down the highway, a hand painted sign advertising fresh ice cream catches my eye. My mouth waters as I imagine a big cone of Strawberry ice cream and I reach over and nudge Zac, hopeful that he'll be in the mood for chocolate.

“Feel like ice cream?” I ask, pointing at the little shop that I can see up ahead.

“Um.” Zac hesitates, his eyes falling to the bag on his lap as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn't find any more words, but instead just nudges the bag and gives me a sheepish smile.

Seriously? Video games have never been something that I've gotten into on the scale that Zac has, and sometimes it's hard to understand his addictive like draw to them.

“C'mon.” I try to entice him, this time putting on the best puppy face that I can manage myself, the way he had when he was trying to persuade me to get the game.

But Zac is much more stubborn, much more strong willed than I am, and he simply stares at me, expression unchanged. But I want ice cream, and I was nice enough to drive him all the way out here for that stupid video game, so he can wait for me to finish an ice cream cone before he gets home to lock himself away with the television for the rest of the perfectly beautiful, sunny day.

“We're stopping.” I tell him, and he's not even looking at me now, but he casts his eyes towards me when I pull into the parking lot, so I know he's now figured out what's going on.

He seems to know better than to protest. “Do you want something?” I ask him, reaching for my wallet in the centre console.

Zac nods and follows me out of the car, and we approach the little shop. It's thankfully nearly empty, just a couple of teenagers paying for their order when we step inside, the sound of soft chimes above our head to announce our entrance. The air in the shop is cool, but sweet with the smell of ice cream, and my mouth waters as my eyes survey the long list of flavours, knowing that no matter how many choices I have, it's always going to be the same.

“How can I help you?” The young woman with strawberry blond hair asks, giving us a friendly smile.

“I'll have two scoops of Strawberry, please... in a waffle cone.” I add, smiling when my eyes find the stack of them behind the counter.

I watch as she pushes the scoop through the thick, pink ice cream and places two huge scoops into the cone. She wraps a napkin around it before giving it to me, and as I clutch it in my hands, my mouth waters before I take the first lick. It melts in my mouth and I close my eyes for a moment.

“Two scoops of Death by Chocolate” Zac's voice pulls me out of my little daze, and I can feel my cheeks burn, worried that the girl had noticed my little moment with the ice cream cone.

After Zac's gotten his ice cream, we move to the counter. I reach into my pocket for my wallet, but Zac reaches out and grabs my hand, his dark eyes finding mine as a smile crosses his thick lips.

“I've got it”

I smile and step away, surprised by his gesture, even though his money is my money, and so on, it doesn't really make a difference, but I don't mind the couple of moments it spares me to get a head start on my ice cream. When we leave the shop, I notice a picnic table off to the side and decide I want to stay. Zac, however, seems to have other plans as he's moving towards the car. I reach out and grab his wrist.

“Mind if we just eat here?” I ask him, looking over at the table.

Zac pauses, but then follows me over to the table and we sit across from each other. There's huge pieces of fresh strawberries in the ice cream, and I take several greedy licks of the melting treat before my eyes wander over to my brother. I watch as his tongue washes over the chocolate ice cream and then across his thick lips, sure to wash every bit clean. My heart speeds up a little bit as I wash him give the ice cream cone a thorough treatment with his tongue, big, greedy licks that remind me a little bit of the way he licks something else... Just when I can feel a stirring between my legs, I feel the stickiness of ice cream melting onto my hand. There's no time to fantasize about my gorgeous boyfriend when my ice cream is melting all over me.

We toss our sticky napkins into a garbage can when we're finished and then head back over to the Range Rover. The rest of the drive home is fairly quiet, and the traffic is fortunately not too bad, we make it onto our road in good time, and before I know it, I'm guiding the SUV down the little hill of our driveway. Zac makes a beeline for the house, and I'm not surprised when the door slams closed in my face. He's straight off to his bedroom, but the thought of my own relaxing afternoon is too tempting to be annoyed with how much of a geek my brother can be. Reaching into the cupboard, I find a tall glass, and pull a few ice cubes from the bag in the freezer, dropping them into the glass. I pour myself some lemonade and then find my novel in the living room, pushing my Ray Bans over my nose as I step outside. The afternoon sun is hot, but the clear blue sky above me and the shimmering lake around me, I don't mind the heat, not with the beautiful view. I'm not sure how Zac can stand to be cooped up inside playing video games on a day like today – I'm not sure how he spent all of yesterday and the day before doing the same thing, either. Zac had been all about the lake and swimming during the first few days, but now it seemed he was getting bored. It was his idea to come in the first place, but, I wasn't ready to go home yet, it would be nice to spend a little more time with him. My Muskoka (A/N: Large/wide, wooden chair, sits low to the ground... do you know what I mean?There's a picture of red/yellow/blue ones in my picture post, find it in my memories.) chair is waiting for me, and I push it into a shady spot under the overhang of the boat house. Setting my drink down, I lean back and pull open my book, ready to lose myself in the afternoon.

After what feels like hardly any time at all, I've read four chapters and finished my lemonade. The sun is hot and the water is enticing... wandering over to the edge of the dock, I push my Toms off and dip a toe into the cool, dark water. I sigh as I feel the water lap against my skin, soothing the heat, a swim is sounding better than ever, and maybe Zac will come with me, I think to myself as I push my Toms back on and dart up the steps. The cottage is cool inside from the small air conditioner in the kitchen, and the darkness of the hallway is such a contrast to the bright sun outside. The bedroom door is closed, but I push it open, knowing that he's only playing a game – we have nothing to hide.

Playing is an understatement, he's so absorbed in what's going on on the screen that he hasn't noticed me standing in the doorway. Despite his lack of hearing, he usually has a way of knowing when I enter the room, the creek and sway of the old floorboards is a good hint, but he also has sharp intuition, so sharp that it surprises me at times, but today, I'm a little more surprised to see that several minutes have passed without him noticing at all. I cross the room and before I need to reach for him, worried I'll startle him, he turns his head.

“Oh, hey” He says, pausing the game.

“Hey” I smile at him, hopeful that he can pull himself out of the game. “How's the game?”

“It's awesome.” The grin on his lips spreads wide and his eyes flash back to the screen, I can tell his fingers are itching to hit the button that will resume the game.

“Feel like going for a swim?” I ask when he finally looks back to me.

“Um... maybe in a little bit?”

I sigh. “A little bit” doesn't sound very promising. “Are you sure? It's really hot out, and the waters nice.”

“I'm almost at a checkpoint...”

“After that? Come out?” I ask him, trying once again to master the pouty face that he is so good at convincing me of things with. “Please?”

“Sure” Zac smiles and I decide to trust him.

I pull open the dresser for my bathing suit, and Zac has resumed his video game as I unzip my shorts, pushing them down my legs. I can't help but think to myself that if my boyfriend was changing next to me, I might at least sneak a peak, but Zac's glued to the game, his eyes fixed to the screen. I decide not to bother interrupting him to say goodbye, hoping that he'll join me outside before long.

My hopes are becoming thinner and thinner as minutes tick by, and I feel like I've been swimming for quite awhile when i decide to swim towards the ladder. I climb out of the lake and reach for the towel I'd left on the old wooden boards of the dock. When my hands are dry, I check my phone for the time, and sure enough, forty five minutes has passed, with no sign of Zac. I feel my heart speeding up a little bit as I think of the things that I could say to him, and my cheeks burn as I fly up the steps to the back door. As I step into the cool air, my eyes wander the room and fall on something in the corner. My anger starts to fade, replaced with something else as I saunter over to the corner.

An old guitar case, ordinary if not ugly, from the outside, with it's torn leather and countless scuffs. It's covered in a layer of dust, it's been awhile since it's been touched, it lives in the corner of this living room just waiting for rare moments like this. Despite the fact that I love to play, this guitar doesn't see much action at the cottage, between the somewhat limited time spent here, and the feeling of guilt that still nips at me a little bit when I do something that Zac is so cruelly denied... It's been awhile, but I know that I'm making the right decision as I wrap my fingers around the old handle and drag it out. Carrying it across the room, I set it down on the couch and I can feel my heart racing again now, this time out of excitement instead of anger. Zac won't even notice that I'm playing, I think to myself as my fingers find the old brass snaps and pull them open. The familiar smell of the guitars wooden body surrounds me in a thick haze of nostalgia as I pull the case open and reveal to me, an old friend, a Martin guitar with a dark cherry body.


	14. The Listener - Thirteen

On the night of day forty one, I don't think anyone in the house got much sleep, with the epitome of that being in my bedroom. Zac stirred in the top bunk above me, constantly leaning over and whispering to me, asking if I was still asleep. As much as I had been tempted to lie to him, to lie very still and breathe very slowly, I couldn't do it. I have always been a fairly terrible liar, and the skill is even weaker when it comes to inflicting it on the people close to me, especially my brother. He'd see through it so easily, he knew me too well, even back then.

The next morning, the entire family was groggy, but we piled into the van and drove to the doctors office. I remember the deathly silence of the car ride, the way everyone seemed afraid to say something, to make a prediction that might not be granted. There was so much riding on the prognosis that we would receive. Best case, we would be allowed to play again. Worst case... I swallowed. I knew that the “worst case scenario” was something that was imminent, it was something that would probably come to be, but I thought then that if we could just have some time before then... It would be okay. A taste of freedom before the world of silence that he was going to be chained to. My stomach was in knots as we drove the twenty miles to the specialists office, despite my parents driving as fast as the speed limit allowed, we couldn't get there fast enough.

Isaac and I had to wait in the waiting room while my parents followed Zac to the back of the office with the doctor, a tall, salt and pepper haired gentleman with a soft voice. I could tell that my brother was scared, I could see it in the way he looked at me with wide brown eyes before being lead away. I had wished that there was something I could do for him, but I couldn't even find a word of comfort, I sat silent and still, feeling as helpless as ever.

And then I counted the minutes. I watched the hands of the clock tick around, and around, and around. Each pass marked one more minute, and each one felt even longer than the one that had preceded it. Isaac held a newspaper, and I initially wondered how he was able to distract himself with something so menial. And then I noticed that the pages never turned, not once, in the forty three and a half minutes it took until we heard foot steps in the hall, followed by a burst of my brother.

The smile on his face told me that the prognosis had been good, but I glanced up at my parents, their faces were a little less excited.

“Well?” I stood up, feeling the sudden impact of my brother throwing himself against me in a hug and I stumbled backwards a little bit. I wanted to be excited, but it was a lot at once, and there was something about my parents expressions.

“We'll talk in the car.” My father said, moving towards the office desk to pay for the appointment and schedule the next one.

There would be many appointments. So many that I expected that I'd get used to the anxiety that came with them, but my stomach never did lose the tightness it felt, and it always seemed as though I was on the verge of throwing up, even on an empty stomach.

“We can play again!” Zac squealed.

I glanced at Isaac, and then at Zac. Isaac was smiling, though looking as hesitant as I felt.

“Calm down, honey. We're in a doctors office.” My mom wrapped an arm around Zac's shoulder, pushing him towards the door.

It was true. We were able to play again. Zac's ear drum damage hadn't gotten any worse, however, as my parents held their breath, sharing a glance, I knew that there was more to the story. I listened to every word they said, even though they strung together, I was able to gather the most pertinent of details. We could play again, though, not the same way we once had. Concerts like the one at the amusement park and the ones at large stadiums were out of the question, it was just too much. The damage was imminent, it was like a ticking time bomb, it was going to get worse, it was a balancing act and a matter of time. He would be able to get hearing aids in the future, with the little bit of hearing he would hang on to, but the doctor also said that the undamaged ear would start to deteriorate as well, by working double time to compensate for the hurt one. Even though my brother could hear right now, albeit a little bit of ringing that he mentioned, it was like the calm before the storm.

It felt like an ultimatum. We could play, but, it would ultimately damage his ears farther than if he wasn't exposed to loud noises. There were two choices. We could keep him in a “bubble”, the way we had, protecting him from loud noise and over stimulation, and we could prolong his hearing and the health of his ears for as long as possible. As good as it sounded on paper, it came with a deadly consequence – Zac would be miserable. On the other hand, we could give Zac, and all of us, what we wanted, what we loved in our hearts and what we missed. We could play, mostly acoustically and away from large crowds, but we could play. For the first time in forty two days, I felt like I could breathe again.

But, there was a catch, something that stopped the happiness from fully seeping in. Even though Zac had been cleared to start playing music, things would have to change, it wouldn't be the same. A million questions flooded my head, how would we tell the media, the press? How would our fans react? When we had cancelled the tour, we received an outpouring of concern. We had labelled it a medical problem, but we hadn't identified it, we couldn't. Now, we would have to. It was overwhelming, and for the first time, I worried about how the fans would feel, I thought about them for the first time during the entire ordeal. I thought of how they smiled at me, how they told me they “loved” me, the letters that were jammed in the mailboxes.

Would they hate us?

We hadn't started playing music to become famous, we had picked up the instruments as something to do, as an interest, and from the moment my fingers created a melody against the ivory keys... my heart was bound to it. I knew that my brothers felt the same, music was a part of our lives, an integral part of who we are and what made us happy. I was okay with letting go of the fame, the large concerts and the thousands of screaming fans that would pack themselves like sardines into a venue just to see me. I wasn't sure, however, how I felt about knowing that every time we played, was hurting him a little bit, in ways that we couldn't see.

“Can we play when we get home?” Zac had asked, practically bouncing in the back seat of the van.

“Yeah” Isaac smiled. “You can pick all of the songs.”

“I don't think you should use your kit.” My father piped up from the drivers seat. “How about just your snare, or maybe your cajun and shakers?”

“I want to play my kit, dad.” Zac whined.

“I don't think so.” My mom agreed, shaking her head and looking into the back of the van with a stormy expression.

Zac sighed. “You can't protect me forever, you know. It's going to get worse no matter what, you heard what they said.”

“Zac” Isaac whispered. “Please.”

Zac sighed again. “Fine. I'll just use my snare and a cymbal? Is that okay?”

“That's fine.” My father said. “I know that you want to do more, but let's just take it slow, alright?”

Despite taking it slow, it felt like a rush to sit down in front of my piano again, knowing that Zac was in the corner of the basement behind me, posed behind his snare drum and a cymbal. We had chosen to play “River” first, a song that we had been working on a lot before the accident had happened. My fingers moved effortlessly across the keys and Isaac and I locked eyes before looking back at Zac during the first verse. He was drumming along, being careful, but the grin on his face told me that this was what he had needed, even if it had it's limits. After “River”, we worked on several songs from Middle of Nowhere for almost an hour and a half before Isaac set his guitar down. I could feel the strain of our efforts as well, my voice felt scratchy and my throat a little sore from singing so loudly, I hadn't meant to, I just found myself unable once we had gotten into it. It felt so good to play again, all three of us, without the guilt of leaving Zac out. It felt like we had come home.

“My fingers are getting sore, Zac. I'm a little out of practice.”

Zac pouted. “Just one more? Please?”

Isaac was quiet for a moment, I cast him my best puppy eyes. “One more, Ike?”

“Yeah, okay.”Isaac finally relented. “Which one?”

“Man from Milwaukee?” Zac's eyes seemed to sparkle. It was one of his favourite songs. “I won't use the megaphone.” He added.

Isaac started strumming the opening, and my part was fairly simple on the keys, but when I turned to look at Zac as he began to sing, the look on his face was all I needed to love the song as much as he did. Zac had written the song when the van broke down on the side of the road, on one of our trips to record and meet with executives in California. It was a silly song, but that was why Zac loved it, something that wasn't about love and girls, which he still thought were fairly “icky” at his age. Sometimes, I helped Zac by singing back up on the leads, but today, I was quiet, he had it under control and it seemed a shame to interrupt him.

“Here comes the best part” Zac said quickly, and I stumbled on the keys, but managed to laugh quietly as Zac started the “best part”.

This is mother bird, calling baby bird  
Baby bird, baby bird, come in  
For the love of pete, come in!  
This is baby bird!  
Sorry, I was watching court TV...  
Do you copy? Do you copy?!  
Of course we copy, twenty four hours a day  
In colour!

The rest of the song dissolved to a fit of Zac's laughter and as my hands fell away from the keys, I couldn't help but laugh too. Even Isaac was grinning as he set his guitar down in the rack. Just then, my mother's voice came booming down the stairs.

“Isaac! Phone!”

Zac slipped from behind his drum while Isaac raced upstairs. “I missed that.” He smiled, his voice a quiet shadow of the excitement that he had been laughing over just a few minutes before.

“Me too, Zac.” I smiled at him. “It's good to have you back.”

Everything felt like it was slowly falling into place. At least, in terms of music. Other parts of my life, however, were starting to become murky. Namely, my new friendship with Tegan. It had nothing to do with Tegan herself, she was one of the coolest girls I had ever met, she could beat me at soccer and laugh about it, and she could probably beat me up if she wanted to, too. She was like no one else I had ever met. Isaac seemed to think the same, although, he had different ideas. The first time he had made the comment that Tegan was “hot”, I hadn't really known what to say, and Isaac gave me this look that I couldn't shake from my mind. Was I supposed to think she was hot? Isaac seemed to think so. I questioned him, “Why can't I just have a friend, that's a girl?”And he just didn't “get it”. Girls were one of Isaac's things, right next to music, and he had always been a bit of a romantic. During the forty two days, Isaac had started going out with girls, which at first, my parents were a little put off about. After he had talked them into realizing he really was just like every other sixteen year old, and he wanted to date, they loosened up, and Isaac was in paradise. There had already been three girls he had taken on dates, none of which I had seen after the first one. He was always asking me if I was going to ask Tegan on a date, or if I wanted him to set me up with someone else. But I didn't, maybe it was my shyness or the fact that Tegan didn't seem to like me as more than a friend either, it just didn't feel like something I was ready, or wanted to do.

In terms of being a friend, though, Tegan made a great one. In a world where I could barely step outside without being recognized, a world where a body guard accompanied us everywhere we went to keep the swarms of blood-thirsty fan girls at bay, it was something like a miracle that when I first met her, Tegan had not yet discovered the phenomenon that was “Mmmbop”. When she asked about my last name, I hesitated. It had been a few days since we had met, and we'd gathered with some of my friends a few times now, to play soccer. She had proven to me not only that she was an incredibly talented soccer player, but that she was also a kind and patient listener, someone who made me laugh and someone that I found myself trusting easily – there was only one final obstacle, to tell her the truth.

“You've never heard of our band?” I had asked her, my brows raised, I must have looked at least a little bit conceited.

But Tegan just shrugged. “I've been in South America. The radio barely picked up a talk station, let alone a music one.” She smiled as she explained. “You probably think it's lame, but I've been listening to a lot of my parents tapes, oldies mostly.”

“I don't think that's lame at all.” I told her. “Sounds like my taste, actually.”

Tegan had grinned. “So, what, are you some sort of celebrity or something?”

I laughed. “Something like that.”

“You're still Taylor to me. But I suppose that I can't feel too guilty about you losing the bet and having to buy me ice cream – you can afford it.” She grinned, the flash of her metal braces sparkling to match the glimmer in her dark eyes.

I remember feeling relieved after I told her about the band, the tension draining as I recounted all of the hours in the studio, and then the countless more on the road. Tegan listened quietly, taking it all in, and where a lot of people would have freaked out as the truth settled, the realization of their company, Tegan was as cool as a cucumber. Being on stage in front of thousands of fans made me feel special, knowing the number of records we had sold made me feel talented, and being so... wanted, made me feel surrounded, but, Tegan made me feel something else... Being with Tegan, I felt like me.

Not me, Taylor Hanson, the popstar. Not the Taylor that spoke confidently in interviews or posed for flashing cameras and the bossy photographers that stood behind them, not even the Taylor that the biographies thought they captured... no, around Tegan, I felt the same way I felt deep down... in a world that held me up on a pedestal, she brought me down to earth. Tegan listened quietly as I confided in her about Zac, she was sympathetic, but didn't drown me with fake pity, either. Tegan was honest, it could be worse. At first, it sounded a little bit harsh, but then she explained to me the story of her cousin, who was born both deaf and blind. It was humbling, the way she told me how her family could barely afford therapy or home care for him, resisted the urging to put him in a group home, but instead did the best they could at home. Zac was going to be deaf, yes, but we had time – precious time, to give him, to teach him to adapt to his new life. Compared to her cousin Robbie, Zac certainly did have a much easier go, and thankfully, we had the money to afford resources to help him. I told her about how much he loved music, how it was breaking his heart to lose it, but Tegan was sure about what she said. And Tegan was right. It really could have been so much worse. I would come to know that Tegan was right about a lot of things.

I couldn't help but wonder though, if Isaac was right too. Was I supposed to have feelings for her?


	15. The Listener - Fourteen

My heart racing, beating loudly in my chest as my fingers find the neck of the guitar. A thin layer of dust came unsettled as I pull it out, and I felt a tug of guilt, it had been a long time since I'd last played the old girl. I couldn't help it, as much as I loved music, without Zac, there was something missing. Despite the fact that he couldn't hear me, I found myself tip toeing as I approached the back door, carrying the guitar down onto the deck with me. I sat down in my favourite chair and just found pause for a moment, letting the cool wood of the guitar rest against my leg as I gaze out over the lake. I knew that I wanted to play, but I wasn't quite sure of what exactly. Licking my lips, I press my fingers where they needed to be to play a G chord, and let the fingers on my other hand gingerly brush over the strings. I wince at the sound that rings out, as expected, the guitar was out of tune. I take my time, turning the knobs, one after another and strumming again, and again, until the sound seems right.

I adjust and adjust, until I'm more than sure the guitar is in tune. If I'm being honest, I'll admit that I procrastinated a little bit. Now, there's no excuse to continue tuning, and I'm sitting alone with this instrument in my lap and it feels a more than just a little bit foreign. There's the knot in my stomach that reminds me of my brother, the way I feel like I'm cheating us, doing something that was so bitterly robbed of him. In the silence of my thoughts, the sound of something else comes flittering into my little bubble, it's muted and soft, but it only takes me a second to figure it out. He's accidentally blasting the volume again, though, part of me wonders how accidental it is, when he can feel the strength of the volume through the ground. His sense of touch is so heightened, he can feel, almost “hear” most vibrations in the ground or in a surface. Which made me wonder if he was doing it on purpose, building himself one of his boxes, a silent way of saying that he wanted to be alone, to be left alone.

I move my fingers over the strings for the first time, swallowing around the lump in my throat and feeling a renewed inspiration. I took a deep breath and allowed my eyes to close, flipping through the songs in my mind, as if they were records in a juke box. There were so many to choose from, and though guitar wasn't my first instrument, I had managed to learn the majority of them over the years, times like this when I slipped away to be alone, it was rare, but it did happen, and music was always the place that I ran to. When I felt my world spinning, closing around me and it became hard to breathe, my mind congested with worries and thoughts and anger, I ran to music. I practically drank it in, enjoying the sweetness of it for just a little at a time before I was able to relax, able to return to my world, my life with Zac again and face the challenges that had been haunting me before. Music was a release, a place to escape, a place to hide.

I decide that tonight, I'm tired of the jukebox, it feels that everything is starting to sound the same. Perhaps, a bitter homage to the way I feel about my life, it felt like days were blurring together to one sometimes, that Zac and I were having the same ups and downs, over and over. I begin to strum a few simple chord changes, and I find myself playing, jumping around until the sound was where I want it to be, and suddenly a few words pop into my mind.

“Thought that I'd figured it out at last...But you can't change the past.”

I think of the challenges that surrounded Zac, the way every time I thought I had him figured out, or I thought I had made the right decision, for instance, the cottage, something slipped, something came undone. I sigh and then continue to play, humming the words until something inspires me to change chords, to change rhythm. The chorus. I strum again, power behind the motions now, the notes getting louder, stronger, as my song is starting to take on a life of it's own, slipping from my mind and into my hands, then out into the world. And I had no one to judge me, no one to hear it, I was alone with it, and so, I dance.

“Feels just like we're dancing in the wind...Feeling just alright...When we're dancing in the wind....  
We can....”

My voice trails off as the words slip away. My eyes are closed tightly, lost in the moment, and my leg strikes the deck in beat as I play it, over, and over, I just can't find the next words. They were there, waiting, but. And then I felt the deck shift beneath me. What was that? I opened my eyes and nearly jumped out of my skin, Zac's arms reaching forward to catch the guitar that I nearly drop in surprise. He was the last person I had been expecting to see, and it felt as though I'd been thrown abruptly out of the rabbit hole I'd had the pleasure of tumbling into. I took a shaking breath.

“Hi” I murmur, my cheeks burning. How much had he heard?

“Play it again.”

“What?” I ask, my brow furrowing. He had heard. My stomach sank like a sack of rocks.

“What you were playing.”

“Are you... wearing...” I turn my head to try and see his ears.

Zac shakes his head. “I was reading your lips, and feeling you tap. Just play it again, please.”

My skin burns and my stomach knots itself like a pretzel. I don't know why he's so insistent, usually, if he caught me playing, he would slip away, he seemed to know that it was “my” time. But tonight, he had caught me in my moment, on my own, and he was pressing for more. I swallow and feel my fingers shaking as I tighten them around the neck of the guitar, my fingers finding their places with an eery amount of ease. I had been playing for a long, long time. I glance at my phone, nearly an hour. Time had flown, and I still only had a couple of lines. How long had he been there? Not the whole time. My mind is spinning.

“Please” He swallows.

“I only have a few words, Zac...”

“I know, I want to help.”

Now, it's my turn to swallow. He wants to write a song.

“Please. Let me just try.” He whispers, his voice sounding so thin, and so desperate that my heart lurches in my chest.

I had to. I begin to play, mumbling the parts that I had figured out.

“Thought that I'd figured it out at last...But you can't change the past.”

My eyes wander to his, dark and soft, and I feel my skin burn as I watch him flinch a little. He caught the reference, and I watch as he swallows, but his face softens as I continue to strum in silence, the words evading me until I move to the chorus, where I feel the crescendo build in my hands.

“Feels just like we're dancing in the wind...Feeling just alright...When we're dancing in the wind....  
We can... We can....”

I strum as I struggle with the chorus, repeating it over and over until Zac's hand on my leg causes my eyes to snap open, I'd been enjoying the darkness I shrouded myself with, why was I so nervous? I stare into his familiar eyes for a moment.

“We can...” My voice fades.

“Dance all night.” He whispers back.

My heart jolts for a second, the breath I had been about to take, feels like it was sucked away from me. I take a shaking breath before continuing, my lips twitching into a tiny smile as I stare into his eyes. It was perfect.

“We can dance all night....” I sing softly. “We can dance all night. All night...All night.”My voice fades away again.

“When we're dancing in the wind, we can dance all night.” Zac sings softly, the smile on his lips growing as he watches me.

I continue to play for a few more moments, I'm not sure how long, time is moving in one of those spinny, speeding ways. I lick my lips as Zac and I share a moment of silence.

“Tay, I wanna try something.”

I raise a brow. “What?”

“I'll be right back.”

I have no idea what he is up to, but I feel speechless, unable to deny or grant, still in awe of what has happened. It's as if he'd heard every word. Zac and I had actually written part of a song, in a way, it felt surreal, it felt as though we'd stepped into a time machine and it had taken us back. Back somewhere that we had kept alive in our hearts, and maybe the time had come to go there again, we'd found a way to get there. I hear the door slam and my head snaps up. My heart slows and my stomach twists. He's carrying his cajun drum and wearing a smile. Helping me write the song had been one thing, he had read my lips and found words that he knew rhymed, they had worked. But could he drum? That was another story.

“I want to try.” Zac says softly, as he sets the box-shaped instrument down on the deck.

It was an old drum, one that we kept at the cottage and that had been sitting for years in the closet we'd left it in. At least, that was what I thought. Zac licks his lips as his eyes study me, waiting for my response. I don't know what to say.

“I can feel the beat, when you tap on the deck, you shake the whole thing.” Zac laughs quietly. “As long as you do that, I think I can follow along. I watch your hands, too. I think I can do it.” He whispers, his voice no more than a soft plea.

I don't know if I was as confident as he felt, but I know as well, that I had no way to deny him. I'm afraid, though. Afraid of having to lie to him if he can't do it. Afraid of the hurt in his eyes. I can tell how much this meant to him. He needs me to believe in him, I have to.

“What should we play?”

“Something old.” Zac nods. “I still remember almost everything, you know.”

I feed a coin into the virtual juke box of my mind and tried to pick. “Sure About It?”

“I'm definitely sure that I'm not sure.”

He's such a dork, but the corny joke lightens the mood between us, at least for me, and I feel my body relaxing, the tremble slipping away as I adjusted my hands on the guitar. It was a fairly simple song, with a drum beat that could be kept easily. I strum the first few chords and watch as Zac reaches out to tap on the front of the drum.

In perfect time.

The tension slowly melts away from my shoulders as the notes flow from my hands, and I begin to sing softly.

“I'm definitely sure that I'm not sure...”

I grin at him.

“Sitting on the corner of nowhere road  
Just between I wish, I could and I don't know  
Rain is splashing up between her toes  
She doesn't know her own area code  
She's a picture of a heart of gold  
On the edge of depression I know  
And a picture of the wrong I wrote  
It's too late for a fight or fold  
Now she's looking at me to know  
The faucet's running and my car got towed...”

My eyes find Zac's again, and he nods at me as he drums along, his hands move modestly, shyly, but in perfect beat. And as I nod back at him, I move into the chorus of the song, and am surprised when I hear his voice behind mine.

“I'm sure about it, I'm definitely sure that I do surely doubt it, I wish that I could say that I was sure about it, but, I'm definitely sure that I'm not sure...”

I feel a tiny giggle of excited laughter as I move to the second verse, I could hardly believe that it's really happening. I strum along, missing a couple of the chords and a few of the words, and Zac just stays with me, holding the beat. It surely wasn't the prettiest version of the song, but, it was the best one I had heard in a long time, that was certain. When the song ends, my eyes wander over to him.

“I can't believe we did that.” I say softly, my body feeling trembly as I set the guitar down in it's case that I had carried out.

Zac licks his lips as he shifts on the drum. “Me either. Did I do okay?”

It dawns on me then that he wasn't able to hear any of the beautiful song we'd just managed to pull off, and his eyes are full of question and doubt as he stares at me.

“Did I mess it up?”

I try and try to tell him no, but the words feel lost, my throat is tight and I just can't seem to get them out. So instead, I lean forward and press my lips against his. He takes a breath against my mouth and then kisses me back, his arms wrapping around me.

“You were amazing.” I whisper to him as we pull apart, my blue eyes locked on his browns.

Zac's cheeks slowly turn a crimson red colour and he licks his puffy lips slowly, taking a breath. “Promise?”

I nod and my hands find his wrists, pulling myself a little bit closer as I press my mouth against his, more desperately this time. Zac moans very, very softly between us as he kisses me back, his tongue washing over the swell of my mouth and I feel my body burn as I slide onto his lap, my arms over his waist and we nearly fall off his teetering drum. Zac laughs as he holds tightly to me.

“I've got you.”He assures me, and I take another deep breath.

I smile down at him from where I'm perched and lean closer for another kiss, stealing a soft one before pulling back to stare into his eyes. “I can't believe we just did that.”

Zac moves forward and kisses me again. “Can we finish that new song?”

I squirm, feeling a familiar tug between my legs and I shift my hips down. Zac's eyes widen and his mouth falls open as he takes a shaking breath, feeling my hardness pressed against his. I watch as his cheeks turn a darker shade of red and his eyes find mine again, curious.

“Actually, there's something I want to do first.” I whisper. “I'll be right back.”


	16. The Listener - Fifteen

The next few days that followed after the first time we played, were saturated with music. It was impossible to get to noon without Zac asking if we could play. Mom made sure that we had our homeschool work finished before we were allowed to rehearse, but Zac was a whiz and flew through his homework astonishingly fast – usually before Isaac had even rolled out of bed. Sleeping in had become one of his favourite things, something that preceded his very favourite – a night out with a girl. A girl, it didn't seem to matter too much if it was Anna, the girl that we used to go to Church with, or Kimmy, the blond girl, two years his senior, that had honed in nearly immediately after we came home. Isaac was quick to forget that the same girl used to tease him for hanging in a tree house with Zac and I. It didn't matter, because Kimmy had dropped her preconceived notions of Isaac being a geek, and traded them in for his rockstar card. He didn't seem to notice, or maybe he just didn't care, that most of these girls seemed more interested in the fact that he was Isaac Hanson, instead of just being Ike. On the nights that he strutted around like a rooster, bragging about how many girls he had kissed in just one week, or how Marley? Or was it Carly? Had let him feel her up, I really leaned on the “he didn't seem to care” option.

And then, when Isaac realized that I wasn't really impressed by his bragging, he turned the tables, and that's when things started to feel worse for me. He started asking why I wasn't interested in going out with all these girls, that he was sure he could find me dozens to choose from, if I so wanted. But I didn't. So he assumed it must be Tegan that I was so interested in, but that wasn't the case either. The more he picked me apart, the more he started to think something was wrong with me, and I started to wonder the same.

Shouldn't I want to kiss a girl?

The idea wasn't so much off putting, as it was that I couldn't think of a girl I wanted to do it with. If I met the right girl, one that liked me for me, and not for being Taylor Hanson, one who was pretty and made me laugh... No, the idea didn't seem bad at all. What did seem unsettling, was the idea of kissing half a dozen girls in a week, the way Isaac flaunted. I wanted the kiss to mean something more than a surge of hormones in the darkness of a tacky movie theatre. Was that so bad?

Despite the worried glances that my parents exchanged, even they didn't bother to try and stop him, their focus was mostly on Zac, who they still treated as though he were made of glass. I guess they couldn't help it because I found myself, even, being a little extra consumed by him. I was waking up earlier so that if nothing else, he and I could spend a little bit of time rehearsing while Isaac finished his book work. We'd usually have at least an hour, but sometimes even three, before Isaac would make his way down to the basement. It wasn't that he didn't want to be there, but, it seemed like Isaac was starting to become distracted more and more by other things, namely, girls.

“We've played this song five times now.” Isaac sighed, setting his guitar down after what was actually the fourth rendition of Madeline.

“But” Zac piped up from behind an improvised four piece kit that he'd sweet talked my parents into letting him concoct. “You're still messing up the second chorus.”

It wasn't a lie, Isaac had been screwing up the chord change every time we tried to play the song, and it wasn't the first mistake he'd made that day either. He had been making mistakes a lot around then, maybe more than usual, or maybe I'd been noticing them because Zac had been so keen to point them out. Isaac wasn't the only one at fault, though. Zac had been known to speed up the tempo when he got bored without warning, or to slow it down if he felt one of us was falling behind. I wasn't always perfect, either. Overall, rehearsals just felt a little bit tense, and it didn't help that our drummer insisted on so many of them. We'd all really missed music, but obviously, Zac had missed it the most of all. A darker part of me wondered if maybe he wasn't trying to just cram every second in that he could, while he was still able. I always pushed thoughts like that away, but they always found their way back, creeping slowly under my skin.

Isaac sighed. “Can we take a breather? I need to call someone.”

“A girl?” Zac quipped.

Isaac rolled his eyes as he shot a look towards our brother, who was making exaggerated kissy faces and flipping his hair. Moments like that were a reminder of how young he really was, it was a contrast to how much time had felt like it had passed in the span of just a few months. It felt like we had all aged, but at that moment, Zac seemed poignantly young.

“Wouldn't you like to know.” Isaac mumbled before taking off up the stairs.

“Did aliens abduct Ike?” Zac asked once the door to the kitchen had closed and we were surely alone.

I chuckled softly as I pretended to play with a knob on my keyboard, pressing a couple of keys and listening to the pitch. I didn't really want to talk about Isaac. Or girls. Or Isaac with girls.

“Seriously, he's gotten so weird. If that's what girls do to you...”

I turned up the volume and played the first few notes of Madeline. “Hey, what do you think of that pitch?” I asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Zac made a face. “Put it back. That's too high, or something.” He began to tap against his snare.

A few minutes slipped by where I sat, just listening to Zac drum, his head in the clouds. The door pushed open and then I heard footsteps on the stairs, followed by Isaac's voice.

“Hey Tay? You wanna go play soccer at the park with Tegan and the guys?”

Yes. I did. “Yeah, when? Now?”

Zac's head snaps towards me as the drumming fades. “But we were practicing!”

“Yeah, we've been practicing all afternoon. Tay and I want to go play soccer.” Isaac folded his arms as he stood at the foot of the steps. “We'll practice tomorrow, okay?” He adds.

Zac scowled, but then sighed. He knew it was a battle he'd lose. If Isaac made his mind up about something, that was pretty much it. He shot me a puppy dog eyed look. “Tay? Are you going to go too?”

I felt myself squirm. “I wanted to. It's soccer... And probably one of the last really nice days of the year.” I glanced outside, the leaves on the maple tree in the back yard were turning the pretty burnt orange colour that meant summer was officially coming to an end, to be replaced by the bitter winds of autumn and the dryness of the winter.

“Can I come then?” Zac replied, looking to Isaac.

Oh no. I watched the lines in my oldest brothers face, the way his brows moved together a bit and his shoulders tensed. “It's the big kids, Zac.”

“But you guys always get to do the fun stuff without me. Please. Please.”

“Come on, Ike. Just this once?” I had decided to speak up, seeing the way that Zac looked genuinely hurt that he was being excluded. He'd also just been cooped up for over a month, and even before then, it had been a long time since the kid had kicked a ball around. It seemed like the right thing to do.

“Fine.” Isaac's jaw clenched. “But he's playing on your team, Tay.” His dark brown eyes moved to mine.

“That's fine.” I swallowed. “Because I'll also have Tegan.”

A smirk moved over Isaac's mouth, and my stomach twisted. I didn't like the smile, I didn't like the dark glimmer in the corner of his eyes. He was about to say something that I wasn't going to like. He was about to be mean.

“Yeah, soccer is about the only way you can score with Tegan.”

“Shut up, Ike.” I said, feeling my cheeks and my ears burning the dark, crimson colour of shame.

“You two better be ready in twenty minutes.” Isaac said before dashing back up the stairs.

I felt my body tremble as I unplugged my keyboard and started tidying up my tambourine, my fingers trembled as I zipped up the dust cover on the keyboard and I jumped as I felt a small hand on my side.

“Tay?”

I turned, sighing quietly as my eyes landed on my brothers. He looked worried.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, Zac.” I said before looking away from him, quickly.

“What did Isaac mean, about scoring with Tegan? I don't get it. Are you upset about that?”

I sighed. I really hadn't wanted to explain the definition of “scoring” to my eleven year old brother. “He was just being a jerk.”

It was Zac's turn to sigh. “You guys never tell me anything when it comes to girls. I don't get it. What's so secret and magical?”

“Nothing is secret or magical, Zac.” I said, turning to him. “Isaac's just obsessed and thinks that I should be too.”

“But if you were obsessed, you'd act like Ike.” Zac made a face.

I felt a tug on the corner of my mouth. My brother had a way of being able to cheer me up, even when he didn't know he was doing it. Isaac got annoyed at my brothers immaturity fairly often, but I sort of liked his naivety. It was a welcome distraction. Everyone always wanted me to be so mature, but sometimes, I just wanted to act like a kid and goof off. “Yeah, that would be gross.”

When we were finished getting things put away, we had just enough time to dart upstairs and change clothes. After we told our parents where we were going, dad agreed to drive us over to the park. Isaac rode shot gun and Zac and I piled into the back. When we got to the field, most of our friends were already there, and we hopped out quickly. As we headed towards the soccer field, Tegan glanced over, and when she saw me, she smiled and started jogging towards me. Isaac darted off in another direction, joining Ashley's team.

“Hey, Tegan.” I smiled. “This is my brother, Zac.”

Tegan grinned at my younger brother, who smiled back. “Nice to meet you.” She said before moving to my side, walking with us towards the other group of players, our team, with all of the usuals.

No one seemed to mind having Zac around, the fact that he was small and fast made him a good defence player for our team, he was able to get the ball away from the bigger guys, who seemed to be afraid to play too rough with him anyway. Racing around, chasing the ball, was a nice break from music, I felt like I was able to run out my frustrations and vent some tension by smashing my foot against the ball. I felt useful when Tegan and I passed the ball to each other, racing down the field, I assisted most of her goals. She was one of the best players on the field, but she'd never boast about it.

When I wasn't working on something with Tegan, most of my focus was on Zac. I couldn't help but feel a little bit protective of the smallest player on the field, especially when it was my brother. Half way through the game, when my lungs were starting to burn and my knees a little sore, I found my eyes glued to Zac, who was struggling to get the ball from Isaac. Isaac kept dodging one way and Zac would follow, darting in front of him, I was worried that Isaac was going to get rough, I noticed the way his cheeks were red, the way he was getting frustrated with Zac getting so, so close to him. Zac too, was pushing the envelope, I knew that he wouldn't be getting so close if it was anyone but my brother. I was so focused on watching the two of them in that perilous dance, that I didn't notice that I myself, was getting way too close to someone else until I felt the wind being pulled out of me and my body colliding with the soft earth.

Opening my eyes and pushing myself up from the ground, my eyes fell on Tegan, who was laying next to me, and then the soft sound of her laughter.

“Taylor, you big clutz, you ran right into me.” Tegan smiled, reaching out and pushing her fingers against my chest, playfully.

I smiled back, feeling embarrassed as my skin turned four different shades of red. “Oops. Are you okay?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I realized that the game had paused, that a circle of people was closing in around us. Watching. I couldn't help but begin to feel nervous then, wondering why it was such a spectacle.

“Yeah, I think so.” Tegan replied. “Except...” Her eyes moved to her leg and mine followed. There was a large red scrape on her knee from where she'd hit a bit of gravel, we'd fallen on the edge of the playing field.”That smarts.”

I winced. “I'm sorry, Tegan.” I swallowed, feeling guilty that my carelessness had caused her that ugly wound.

“Why don't you kiss it better, Tay?” Isaac's voice cut in and the tickle of nervous butterflies, turned to outright nausea as my body felt cold, my lungs were an entirely new feeling of breathlessness.

Tegan's head snapped up and her brown eyes darted to mine and then to Isaac's. The crowd moved closer, and I glanced from person to person, why did my friends suddenly feel like strangers? Why were they all watching us so intently? What was I missing? The only person that wasn't smirking and whispering was Zac. He watched me with a solemn expression and when my eyes found his, I felt myself exhale slowly.

“Yeah, kiss it better, Tay.” Isaac's friend Jerome chided in, his elbow brushing against Isaac's ribs in a playful jest.

“What do you say, Tegan? Should Taylor kiss you better?”

“I'm fine” Tegan shook her head. “It's just a scrape, you guys...”

I felt a little relieved that she was trying to defend me, and from the red blush on her cheeks, she felt just as embarrassed as I did.

“Everyone knows you two like each other. Come on, Teg, let him do you the honour.” Tegan's brother, Mason chimed in. “What other girl can say that they kissed Taylor Hanson?”

“Oh grow up!” Tegan rolled her eyes. “If Taylor doesn't want to kiss me, he doesn't have to! I don't need a kiss better anyway”

Did she want me to kiss her? My heart began to race. I glanced to her, and her brown eyes seemed wide and nervous. The redness in her cheeks, I wondered now if it was fear, or something else? She hadn't denied liking me... and neither had I. I swallowed.

“Taylor's too chicken to kiss a girl!” Isaac crowd. “Bawk, bawk!”

“Leave him alone!” Zac suddenly piped up, and my body burned. He was only trying to help, but, the endorsement of an eleven year old was the last thing that I needed then and more than ever, I felt like I was going to be sick as I felt the weight of everyones eyes, the weight of the pressure on my shoulders, I felt like I was drowning.

“Bawk bawk...” Mason and Jerome joined in.

I wished that the ground would swallow me up then, that this moment could just cease to exist and that everyone would forget it had ever happened. I felt helpless as I looked to Tegan, who mirrored the emotion in her eyes, she looked as scared and nervous as I felt, but I didn't know how to fix it, I wanted to do the right thing, but I didn't have the courage to defend either of us. So instead, I did the only thing that I could think to do, in that moment, that would make them all shut up.

Leaning forward, I gingerly brushed my fingers against her cheek and her eyes widened. I caught her warm brown eyes for just a second before I pressed my lips gently against hers. Her mouth was soft and her hand reached out, clutching my wrist as we kissed for the shortest of seconds before pulling away. I stared at her, my heart racing in my chest, as I let out the breath I had been holding.

And then, everyone was silent. It was over. As quickly as it had started, it had ended, and Ashley threw the ball, kicking it as it came down and shouted that the game was back on. Tegan stood up first, and then reached her hand down to me to pull me up. My fingers trembled as they closed around hers and her eyes darted away when I tried to look up at her.

“Are you okay?” I whispered softly, reaching for her wrist when she tried to pull away from me.

“Yeah.” Tegan chewed on her lip, and I knew she was lying, she still wouldn't look at me.

“No you aren't.” I said, my fingers tightening as she tried to pull away again. “Tell me what's wrong. Please.”

“Why did you do that?” She whispered. “Because they were teasing you?”

I sucked in a breath. “Um.”

“Tay” She sighed. “I... I...”

“What is it?” I asked her, my heart beating rapidly in my chest, my knees feeling shaky, just when I thought it was over, the fear was creeping back in again.

“I don't like you like that. I know Mason said I -”

“Wait” I asked, my hands loosening. “You mean... you don't have a crush on me, then?”

Tegan shook her head. “I'm sorry. I hope you don't hate me. You're the best friend I've made all year an-”

“Tegan” I couldn't help but laugh quietly, I had to stop her before she rambled out of control, she had a way of doing that when she was upset. “I don't have a crush on you either.”

“Oh” Tegan sighed. “Phew. I guess... that's a relief. Should I be offended?”

I laughed again. “No more than I should be. Am I not very cute? Is it my brother you like?” I raised a brow. I doubted that Tegan had fallen for my brothers... “charm”, but I wanted to be sure.

“Isaac?” Tegan's nose wrinkled. “Ew. He's a player. You're much cuter, I just think we make better friends.”

I smiled at her, she was right. We made great friends. I pulled her into a hug, which sent a roar from the other side of the field, Isaac had seen us and probably thought that it had meant something else. Tegan hugged me back for a moment before pulling back.

“I think we make pretty great friends too.” I said quietly as we pulled apart. “Thanks for getting my brother off my back.”

“I can say the same to you. Mason wouldn't stop bugging me about it.” Tegan winked before racing across the field.

We had a game to finish.


	17. The Listener - Sixteen

The door slams behind me and Zac's head snaps up from where he's sitting on his cajun drum, waiting. In my arms, I have bundled two large blankets, a thick pillow, and buried in there somewhere, is a bottle of lube... just in case. My tongue moves over my lips as I reach the bottom step, his dark eyes are glued to mine.

“What's that?” Zac asks softly, standing up now, moving towards me in the darkness.

“Blankets, a pillow, stuff.” I smile and then lean forward, brushing my lips briefly over mine. “What do you say?”

“How could I say no?” Zac smiles before pressing another kiss to my mouth, his arms wrapping around me and I let the bundle of blankets fall between us.

Zac's strong arms hold me and I sigh softly as I feel him pull me close. I feel safe in his arms when he holds me like this, but my mind is distracted as he kisses me once more, sucking my lower lip into his mouth as the fingers of one of his hand begin to trail down my back, a finger tip brushing over the curve of my spine before both hands slide to my backside, giving it a little squeeze. That's the sign that it's time to set up.

I spread the blankets out on the ground and toss the pillow down, the bottle of lube rolls out from where it was buried inside one of the comforters, and Zac gives it a quizzical stare before his eyes wander back to me, one brow arched.

“Well” I feel my cheeks burn a little bit. “Just in...”

His mouth covers mine before the rest of the words find their way out, and I feel his arms wrap around me. Soft, pillowy lips move away from mine and instead, take a damp trail over my jaw line and towards my ear. He exhales, his body trembling the slightest bit against mine and then he whispers. “I know what it's for. I think you should lie down.”

I tremble. It's rare that Zac makes as bold of a move when it comes to taking control, there have been plenty of times that he has... lead things, per se, but these times were few and far between. When they happened however, they always took my breath away, and tonight was no exception.

The deck creeks beneath me and I'm aware of the dark, stillness of the night, the blanket of stars above us and the sounds of waves crashing gently against the deck. I lay down gingerly on the blanket, and Zac's eyes never leave me once as he follows me. Swinging one leg over my hips, he climbs onto my lap and I lay down as I feel his hands slide to my arms, fingers dancing over my skin very gently before he leans down, presses his lips against mine and suddenly, presses his hands down against my wrists. He's pinned me. I suck in a sharp breath and my eyes close, I'm powerless as his kisses move over my jaw once again. I squirm beneath him, and he presses harder against my wrists before he presses a soft kiss beneath my ear lobe.

“I've got this, okay?”

My cock throbs, a wave of hot pleasure racing through me, my toes are curling as my breath feels pulled from my lips. I'm feeling helpless to do anything but nod to him, as my tongue moves over my now dry feeling lips. His eyes, usually warm and brown, are now pools of what looks like black as he stares down at me with an intensity that is causing my mind to spin. My eyes flutter closed as his mouth descends on mine again, the warmth of his fingers, I can feel him shaking the tiniest bit as he slides his hands up my arms before sliding them back down again, holding my wrists down as he breaks the kiss. I catch his eyes for a moment before closing them again, plunging myself into absolutely blackness.

And Zac.

My hips buck from the blankets, my body squirming around is causing them to wrinkle beneath us, but the messiness is the last thing on my mind as I feel his warm mouth on my neck. His breath is hot and ticklish against my damp feeling skin, my hips rise again from the boards and Zac's fingers tighten on my wrists. Lips against my ear for a moment and when I squirm again, I'm rewarded with the softest growl, and now I'm really losing it.

“Stay still.”

My body thrashes beneath him and he wants me still, but I can't control the frantic pumping of my heart in response to every touch of his breath on my skin. He doesn't even need to kiss me, he has me so wound up, for he's not usually the one to take control in this way. Zac has a lot of predictabilities, but this was unpredicted, he's caught me off guard, and god damn, I like it. He feels confident as he places kiss after kiss against the side of my neck until I'm a trembling mess. I want more, no, I need more.

“Zac” I groan, even though he can't hear me, he can feel the vibration in my throat and he knows I've made noise.

And despite being unable to hear it, he doesn't like it. “Shhh.” He breathes against me, holding me tightly as his hips push down against mine.

I feel his cock, hard and rigid beneath the thick jeans he's wearing and I can barely control myself as I let out a loud moan, my body shaking as I fight against him, I want to touch him, pull him to me and grind myself against him as I feel the friction between us burn once more, another dip of his hips. I close my eyes and let out a sigh. “I need you” I mumble.

I open my eyes and find his, knowing now that he'd 'heard' me. My cheeks burn as he stares down at me, silently, his lips slightly open as I watch him take deep breaths. He seems a little unsure, maybe just for a moment, I see something pass in his eyes, but then he leans down, sliding his hands away from my wrists and to my thighs. It's my turn to be confused now but my body is burning beneath his touch as he pushes his hands higher, and higher. Soft, pillowy lips against mine and he sucks my lower lip between his for a moment before pulling back, his teeth grazing the swell of my pout just enough to cause me to groan.

His hand covers my bulge and he whispers. “Look at me.”

I heave a shaking breath and open my eyes, finding the dark pools of black staring back at me.

“I've got this. Be good for me. Okay, Tay?” His mouth is gentle now, feigning innocence and it's a stark contrast to the intensity of the moment just passed.

I nod helplessly, my eyes closing to surround me in darkness again and my mind focuses only one the touch of his lips as he moves his mouth over my neck. A trail of gentle kisses moves lower as his fingers brush up and down my thighs before moving to the hem of my shirt. I sit up as he pushes the fabric away from me, and with a nervous smile he sheds his own shirt, knowing it's “only fair”. Bare skin against bare skin has got to be one of the best feelings, the softness and warmth of his body flush against mine is something that I've never grown tired of, and the first touch always ignites a spark of warmth and tenderness within me, regardless of how... un-tender the act might be, and his hips buck against mine, a reminder that this is a time that is about a lot more than being tender.

“I want to taste you...” Zac mumbles, kisses moving down my neck and his dark eyes flick up to my face as his fingers trail the top of my arms, following the direction of his lips, now in the patch of hair on my chest, his breath is tickling my burning skin.

My hands, no longer held down by him, move to his shoulders and then to his hair. I wind my fingers in the soft locks and he purrs beneath my touch, because Zac loves to have his hair played with, pulled on, tugged, it doesn't matter, he doesn't even mind if I'm rough, and that's what it comes to now. Zac's tongue washes over my nipple, soft and gentle at first, but then fingers tighten around my shoulder to hold me down a little bit as he becomes rough. Teeth close around the tender bud and I cry out as I feel my fingers tighten in his hair, tugging, twisting a little bit in reaction to the pain that moves through me.

And then it's over, and his soft, pillowy lips are gentle against the sensitive skin. His mouth is so gentle now, such a contrast to what had just been and my heart is racing in my chest, breath coming in short pulls as I struggle to relax to the gentleness that is his mouth sucking slowly, gently on my sore skin. Zac's lips curl into a smile as his hands slide down my sides, coming to rest on my hips, his fingers drawing little circles against my hip bones where the skin was pulled taut. I always sucked my stomach in when he touched me there, self conscious of the bit of ... extra meat that had gathered there in the last year or so. Zac senses my consciousness and he clears his throat a bit, catching my attention. Dark eyes are locked on mine as he slides his body lower, lips trailing down over my navel and I tremble as he slides between my legs. He presses a kiss to my abdomen and then one to each of my hips. Sliding my fingers into his hair, I tug it free from the elastic that's tying it long and low and he shakes his head a bit as the hair spills into my hands. I run my fingers through the strands for a few moments, watching as his eyes close and he takes a shaking breath, exhaling and his warm breath is against my navel and I'm quivering.

Zac's eyes snap open and he gives me a shy smile before sliding down between my legs and pressing a kiss to the fly in my shorts. I groan, fingers tightening in his long hair and he slides a hand up my thigh, fingers creeping towards my bulge before darting away at the last moment, causing me to groan.

“Be patient.” Zac commands, his tone deep and low, almost a growl.

The confidence in his words, behind his touch, is a little unnerving, despite being such a turn on. He's feeling good tonight, but I can't help to admit it's taken me a little off guard. I'm usually the one in control, but it's not as if I mind. I don't mind at all as his fingers work the zipper on my shorts down and I lift my hips as he begins to tug the fabric away. The air feels a little cooler against me as I'm left in just my underwear, but I'm distracted by the warmth of Zac's mouth. Soft kisses cover the inside of my thighs as his hands gently push my thighs apart. He lays between my splayed legs and when I open my eyes and shift my hips a bit, dark chocolate pools look up at me and his mouth dares a little higher, brushing against the side of my sack, protected by just a flimsy layer of cotton boxer brief, now but then darting away to my left hip bone. I can't help but groan as my head falls back against the thick, down filled pillow and I let out a sigh as my hips fall down against the deck again. Zac's teeth graze my skin and the little stab of pain catches me off guard. I moan as I pull on his hair a little and he looks up at me, saying nothing. I swallow as we stare at each other for what feels like a lot longer than a few seconds.

“What do you want, Taylor?”

My head falls back again and I sigh. I know he can't see what I'm saying unless I sit up, but butterflies are in my stomach and I feel a little anxious.

“Anything” I say, sitting up. “Anything.” I repeat, a little more confidently. “Anything you do will feel amazing.”

Fingers suddenly hitch in the side of my briefs and he's yanking them down. My sack twitches a little as his warm breath falls on it and he gets comfortable between my legs. Big, warm fingers on my thighs, he's pushing my legs further apart and my eyes close as his lips find the inside of my thigh. A few tender kisses move higher and higher as his fingers move to my shaft. I groan, my hips rising a little bit and body quivering as he wraps his fingers around me as his tongue touches one of my balls. I twist my fingers into his hair as he takes my sack in his mouth and sucks for just a moment before pulling his mouth away, a kiss against my hip as his hand slides up my length and his thumb flicks my swollen cock head. He knows exactly the ways I like to be touched, the most sensitive places, he knows exactly where to hone in, he has me memorized, the way I have him.

“Zac” I groan to deaf ears, but he responds to the tremble in my body, the hum in my chest and I cry out even more loudly when I feel his lips wrap around the head of my cock.

Just as he knows every part of my body by heart, he knows every reaction by feel, as well. He can identify the shakes and twitches in my body, he can feel the rise of my chest when I take a sharp breath, he can feel me sigh. His wet mouth slides down my shaft and I can feel his tongue against the underside of me, my hips rise and fall again and his fingers slide down between my thighs, over my balls and I quiver. Zac's head bobs a bit as he takes me deep in his mouth, blow jobs are one thing he's especially good at, his big, soft wet mouth fits so much of me inside of it, there's almost nothing hotter than seeing my cock disappear between those pillowy lips.

Zac's eyes find mine and a little smile crosses his mouth as he pulls his lips away with a wet smacking sound and he locks eyes with mine as he slides his fingers up my shaft. I close my eyes, biting my lip as I push myself into his hand, seeking more. I'm already missing the feel of his wet mouth against me, but he's intent to tease and I can simply buck against his stroking hand again and again.

“Tell me.”

“Fuck, Zac.” I mumble, sitting up a bit so that he can see me. “I need you to...” I sigh and Zac twists his hand against my wet shaft.

“Tell me.” He repeats. “Tell me and I'll do it.” He adds, his voice a little softer.

“Suck me, please.” I manage to mumble, knowing that I don't need to be loud nor too precise, he knows that I'm being stretched thin, he knows that I don't just want more, I need more.

My toes curl as his lips wrap around the head of my cock and my fingers push themselves deep into his shaggy locks as his mouth slides down around me. I hiss out a moan as his fingers wrap around my shaft, and he's stroking me and sucking me with a tempo that's making me quiver. Wet fingers slide lower, over my balls and creep between my cheeks at the exact moment he chooses to twist his tongue along the ridge of my cock head. I cry out, it's like fire and ice, the sensitivity of my cock head tingling, combined with the naughty jolt that's his calloused finger tips brushing over my puckered rosebud. What exactly does he have in mind?

Fingers twist against my hole and I moan as the tip of one slides in, and he sucks me deep into his mouth. My body trembles, hips bucking up and pushing more of me into his mouth and Zac slides his hand away from my shaft, pulls his fingers from between my cheeks and looks up at me. Everything is still and silent, and I can practically hear the slam of my heart in my chest as moments lapse with him just staring at me.

“Zac...” I mumble.

Zac just smiles and drops down, throwing my legs over his shoulders and my heart is really racing out of control now, breathing hard to manage as I pull in shaking gasps. I hold onto his hair, feeling as if it gives me some steadiness as the rest of my body is thrown out of control. Almost like a ship bobbing in a storm of crashing, rough waves, my body jerks against him as his fingers wrap around my shaft and his mouth finds my sack. A few soft kisses turn to the stroke of his tongue, a wet trail over my sack and further down, and my body burns red as I know exactly what he has in mind now. There's no time to be embarrassed or hesitant when he's pushing my cheeks apart and I can feel the wetness of his tongue sliding closer and closer...

“Oh, fuck” I groan loudly, my fingers twisting tightly in his hair as he flicks his tongue against the overly sensitive skin.

If you've ever felt your whole body jerk in reaction to a finger in a socket, you could imagine the pleasure that ripped through me as I felt his tongue twist against my entrance. Everything is a blur of white heat as his tongue moves against me, the fingers of one of his hands wrapped around my shaft and pumping slowly, he squeezes my cock as he points his tongue and the tip slides into me. My body jerks and I'm met with a soft growl and his other hand pushing my hips down.

“Stay still.”

A rim job from Zac is truly something special, those soft lips and that big, thick tongue. He knows exactly how to move his tongue against me, he knows every touch to command my toes to curl or my breath to falter. I cling to his hair as my body quivers beneath him, I'm trying desperately to be still, but it's difficult, and only increasingly so as his tongue moves away and a finger slides between my wet cheeks instead. I'm plenty wet from his mouth and the tip of his finger slides into my easily as the fingers of his other hand twist against my shaft. Zac pushes his finger all the way into me before sitting up slowly, and I open my eyes to meet his dark ones. He holds my stare, his thumb smoothing circles and twists over my swollen head as he pauses for a moment before taking a breath and pushing his finger just a little deeper inside of me, wiggling the tip against my prostate.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

I'm so caught off guard by the deepness of his voice, the flush of his cheeks, that I just fumble for the condom I know I brought down, finally finding it and the bottle of lube and pushing both of them into his hands. Zac takes the items, but sets them down again as he crawls on top of me.

“That wasn't an answer.”

He pulls away and looks into my eyes, waiting for my reply.

“Please.” I sigh. “Please, fuck me.”

His mouth descends upon mine and it's a fury of tongues and moving lips as he kisses me desperately. I kiss him back, regardless of where his mouth has been, I'm too caught up in the moment to care. His hands are on my arms, fingers trembling a little bit as the kiss slows down, and he moves away.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his voice more quiet, the dominant boy subdued a little bit as he seeks reassurance.

He doesn't usually top.

I nod my head and reach for the condom, pushing the foil covered package into his hand and feeling him shake. I pull him towards me and press my mouth to his. Zac kisses me back for a moment before pulling away and ripping open the package. Quickly, he pushes his jeans off, followed by his boxers and his thick, rock hard cock is revealed. I feel my heart speed up as my eyes move over the thick shaft, my mind spinning as I imagine how it's going to feel pushed deep inside of me. My toes curl and I can't wait any longer.

“How do you want me?” I ask, sitting up and licking my lips as I watch him roll the condom onto himself, the motions of his fingers against his cock are making my own twitch in anticipation. I love the way he touches himself.

“Like that” Zac whispers, slipping between my legs again. “I need to see your face.” Zac leans down and presses a few tender kisses against my neck.

I knew he'd want me on my back, the rare times that he takes charge and decides he wants me, he needs to be able to see my face, leaving us few options. I love sliding down onto his cock, his hands on my hips as he guides me onto himself, but I love this way as well, his mouth makes a trail of kisses as I feel his hardness against mine. Zac pulls away as he reaches for the bottle of lube and pours some onto his fingers. He rubs the thick stuff between his fingers for a moment before pressing his mouth against mine and sliding his fingers between my cheeks. I spread my legs wider, trying to provide him the easiest access as I can, and he has no trouble at all with navigation as one finger slips into me. I moan, and Zac responds with a hungry kiss, quickly pulling the finger out, only to plunge it back inside.

He pushes the finger in and out of me for several moments, creating a slow tempo until he has me quivering. Lips against mine, he pulls my lower lip between his and nibbles as a second finger joins the first. I moan loudly against his mouth as two fingers push me open, he spreads them, taming the tight muscles and my eyes flutter closed as I take deep breaths, trying to make this as easy as possible. His fingers aren't enough, I need more of him.

“More” I beg after a few moments, he's pushing his fingers in and out easily now. I repeat the word until i have his attention. “More, Zac.” His eyes are on my mouth now, his cheeks are blushing a deep shade of red, visible despite the darkness that surrounds us.

Zac licks his lips as he looks down at himself, his hand around his shaft.

“Three fingers?” Zac asks, bringing a third finger between my legs.

“Hurry.” I pant, I need more.

Three fingers push into me, a little rougher than his previous ministrations but I'm ready for him, I want him, and my body sings as I cry out, my hips bucking towards him and taking him deep inside me. Zac groans himself, feeling me clench against his fingers, and he thrusts them against me for a few moments before pulling them out and reaching for the lube.

“Tell me.” He commands softly as he covers himself with a generous amount.

“Zac” I breathe, my eyes moving to his, watching the way they are glued to my mouth, watching as I form each word for him. “I need you.”

“How?” He asks, sliding down on top of me and guiding himself between my legs.

I quiver against him. “Inside of me. Now.”

There's no more hesitation, just the feeling of Zac's thick head slowly sliding into me. He groans loudly, his fingers gripping at my upper arms as he pushes himself in, eyes closed tightly as he bites his lip. I reach and string my fingers into his hair, twisting the locks around my fingers until his dark chocolate eyes find mine. He breathes, loudly.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, pausing, he's about three quarters of the way inside of me.

I pull in a breath. “Yeah, baby.” I murmur, pulling him closer.

The confident, dominant Zac has disappeared, replaced by a tender one whose terrified of hurting me. I know his lack of hearing makes him feel vulnerable, he's afraid of being too rough or too fast, and he locks his eyes on mine as he pushes the rest of the way inside of me before letting out a quivering sigh.

“You feel so good.” He whispers, bringing his mouth to mine.

We kiss slowly, our lips moving against each other as Zac keeps his hips still. There's a little bit of discomfort, naturally, it comes with the territory of not being fucked very often, but Zac is more than attentive to my needs, and he stays perfectly still for several long moments, just kissing me slowly and running his fingers along my arms, down my sides, over my hips. I pull in a breath as his fingers move towards my shaft. I open my eyes, licking my lips, and I tug his hair a tiny bit. His eyes move to my mouth, waiting.

“I need you. Make love to me, Zac.”

Zac kisses me again before moving his hips, drawing himself nearly all the way out of me before pushing back in. A groan, followed by a soft sigh, fall from his thick, impossibly swollen lips and his fingers tighten on my arms. He holds onto me while he trembles, each push of his hips gaining a little bit of momentum, but his movements are gentle, he's tender, he's nervous. I close my eyes and pull him closer as I suck his lower lip between mine and bite down. Zac pulls away and his eyes watch me, moving to my mouth.

“More, baby.” I murmur, tugging his hair before sliding my hands down to his hip and allowing my fingernails to press into the soft skin around his hips.

Zac leans down and presses kisses to my neck, soft at first as he begins to thrust, faster though still modestly. I close my eyes, groaning loudly, because I have nothing to be worried about, no shame to be felt worrying about what I sound like, it's freeing. It's all blackness and Zac as my eyes are closed to everything else, my body turns off to my surroundings and it's nothing but him and I. When I open my eyes, the night is nearly as inky black and dark as it had been behind closed eyes. Above us, a blanket of stars paints the sky with tiny lights, and the moon is nearly full, a few puffy clouds floating in front of it. It casts a soft light on us, just enough to see Zac's warm brown eyes watching me, studying every movement, every reaction that paint my features.

His thrusts are becoming a little more bold as my fingernails make crescents in his soft skin, he groans and whimpers as he pushes into me, struggling to keep his eyes on me and closing them, losing himself to his own world that must be far more amazing than mine, even more secluded. I wonder what it's like, what he feels, knowing his senses are heightened... The expressions on his face reveal a pretty good idea. The way his mouth falls wide open and he pulls shaking breaths, the way his eyes flinch and close as he feels my muscles squeeze him. My favourite still are all of the sounds, the gasps, the sighs, the whimpers, the moans, all of it. I wonder if he's conscious of them all, or if some slip out, completely unknown.

“God” He groans, pushing his hips hard and I moan in response, he's thrust against my prostate and the warm rush of pleasure that flows through me causes my body to jerk up towards him.

“Fuck, Tay.” He mumbles, kissing me hungrily as his hips begin to thrust more wildly, he's starting to lose control.

And I love it when he loses control.

Wild brown eyes find mine, and he looks somewhere between nervous and in ecstasy, he needs a little reassurance as he feels his body tumble out of control. Leaning forward, I pull him to me and kiss him hungrily, sucking his plump lips between mine and pushing my hips towards him. I can take it, I want him to fuck me until he comes.

“Are you close?” I ask when I know his eyes are on my mouth.

He nods, fingers tightening on my arms as he holds onto me.

“Fuck me.” I say slowly, making sure he knows clearly what I want. “Fuck me, Zac.” I repeat.

“Oh god” He gasps before pushing his hips forward and crying out.

He feels amazing, thrusting rough against me, he's unleashed. I love Zac out of control, I love the feel of his nails against my skin as he pushes into me over and over, his hard cock stretching me and filling me with rough strokes that bump my prostate when I buck my hips up the right way. We find a tempo of thrusts and bucks that is pushing me closer and closer to my own release and Zac is whimpering and trembling, I know he's close. His hand slides over my stomach and I can feel his fingers shaking as he wraps his hand around my cock.

“Come for me, I want to feel you come first” Zac mumbles, twisting his wrist against me.

“Oh, fuck, baby” I groan as my eyes clench closed, tightly, my toes curling as my body jerks towards him.

He angles his hips and thrusts hard as he guides his hand around me, and after a few strokes, I've tumbled past the point of no return. Zac's eyes are studying me, and he knows every reaction so well that he leans down to kiss me just as my body loses control. It's nothing but bright, spinning white as his mouth moves against mine and then he groans against my mouth as I feel him swell and come inside of me, hips bucking gently against me as he pushes himself to the end, until his cock is spent and his breath is heaving. My body quivers as the pleasure comes in waves, each one becoming less and less intense until I'm trembling just a little bit, and things are becoming more real.

The weight of Zac's body against my chest, his slow breathing, and then the touch of his lips against the side of my neck.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you too.” I smile lazily as he pulls himself out of me and pulls the condom off.

Grabbing the blanket, he pulls it up over us, and despite the sweat on my body, there is a bit of a breeze, and the blanket gives us a warm, cozy shield. Zac lays his head against my chest and I wrap my arms around him, breathing deeply and then letting out a soft sigh as I run my fingers through his now damp hair. Zac adjusts his head on my chest and presses his ear above my heart.

“Shh.” He whispers.

“Hum?” I mumble, trying to sit up.

“Lay down, stay still. Please.” Zac whispers. “I can feel your heart.”

I swallow and settle against the pillow, my eyes closing as I relax against the warmth of him against me. His fingers move up and down the arm on the opposite side as he presses his ear against my bare skin. I can feel each of his breaths, warm and damp, and several minutes pass.

“Zac?” I say, knowing he'll feel the vibration of my voice.

“I'm listening to your heart. I swear, I can almost hear it. It's beating so hard.” He whispers, sitting up, his warm brown eyes on mine as he gives me a shy smile before placing a soft kiss against my chest. “I swear.” He murmurs again. “I can hear it.” He lays back down, his ear against my chest and one arm wrapped around me, holding onto me.

I smile and let out a breath as my fingers twist in his soft hair. I could lay like this, with him, right here, forever.


	18. The Listener - 17

I had been able to push those awkward moments away from my mind for the rest of the day. The game had ended, with Isaac's team winning, Tegan and I both seemed a little off of our games when we returned, and they scored three goals on us. We had to be home for dinner, and my dad showed up in the mini van just minutes after we had finished the game. The ride home was silent, with Isaac's eyes wandering to me more often than usual, and these little smirks that he tried to get me to share with him, I just felt more and more nervous as I watched familiar houses fly by.

With some good fortune, Isaac disappeared into his bedroom with the cordless phone, and the awkward pressure that I had been feeling around him, evaporated from my consciousness. Zac had been curled up on the couch watching a VHS, picking lazily through a bowl of popcorn. I had decided that the Pixar movie didn't seem that appealing, my thoughts were congested with more mature things than some animated bugs, so I told my brother I'd be in our room. He gave me a half aware nod, and with that, I had slipped up the stairs, closing myself in the solitude of our bedroom.

I remember wandering over to the dresser and staring at the soccer team picture from two summers ago. Things had been so much different then, I thought to myself as I stared at a younger version of myself, a shy but huge smile, standing behind a much younger seeming Zac, a gap toothed smile and wild straw blond hair. Now soccer reminded me of the kiss, and how awkward it had felt, and how I felt ashamed of letting my brothers taunting get to me enough to do something that I didn't want to. I was worried too, about my friendship with Tegan. She had promised me that things were okay, taking my hands in hers, which only made the swell of horny teenagers around us squeal and promised me that we'd be fine, that we were still friends. I hoped she was right, I hoped that I hadn't messed up the only good thing I had found since the accident.

I laid on my bed for a long time, holding an old paperback that I had already read once before and pretending to stare at the words. I'd start, and start again, on a chunk of text, getting a few lines into it before my mind would wander and I'd lose myself in a span of heavy time. By the time I heard the crack of the door, I shifted and felt my joints crack a bit, my mouth had that dry, 'having slept' feeling, and I realized that I'd probably lost myself in my mind for a lot longer than I had expected. My eyes adjusted in the dim light, lit only by the small lamp on the bedside table next to my bottom bunk. Zac stepped towards me, closing the door behind him.

“Tired?” I had asked him as I stifled a yawn myself, setting the book down as I pulled my blanket up and over me.

“Sorta.” Zac shrugs, pulling his shirt off and then reaching for the button on his pants.

I look away as he pushes his pants down and tosses his dirty clothes into the hamper. The mattress sinks and creaks, and I look over, seeing that he's taken a seat on the side of my bed.

“What's up?” I ask him, having sensed the tension that had seemingly grown between us in just seconds.

He had been quiet on the couch, a little lost in thought himself, maybe, I realized as I gave it some deeper thought. But, he could have just been paying attention to the movie, also, the way I had initially concluded. The way he was silent now though, even after my question, that made my stomach knot up, and I reached over to turn the light brighter, adjusting the dimmer knob until the room was a bit more vivid, I could see the worry on his face.

“Can I ask you something?” He finally asked after a long moment, folding and unfolding his hands on his lap as he swallowed around a nervous lump and dared to look over at me, his cheeks stained pink.

“Sure, Zac. What is it?” I sat up a little bit more and tried to fake some confidence, he obviously needed some reassurance.

I had no idea what he wanted to ask me, but the longer he was quiet, the more nervous I became. Finally, the bed shifted beneath us and I heard him inhale, deeply.

“What was it like? Kissing, I mean?”

That was what he was so nervous about?! I remember thinking to myself, and I couldn't hold back the smile that tugged on my mouth. My eyes moved over to him. “Don't be so embarrassed.”

“I'm not.”

Zac was a terrible liar, he still is, for the most part. It was a skill that he, unfortunately, came to hone in the darker years, but this day had been before all of that. Fortunately, a skill that has lost it's sharpness. Now a days, he's more like the young and naive Zac, the old Zac. He was still green, and it was obvious that he was nervous and embarrassed about asking me this, even though I couldn't seem to figure out why. It was just a kiss, it wasn't that big of a deal, was it?

“It seemed like a big deal to you, that's why I was afraid to ask.” Zac says so quietly that I have to ask him to repeat it, I wasn't sure I'd heard him correctly, but the cold fear that was knotting in my stomach told me that I really had heard most of it.

Zac repeated the words, his dark eyes looking towards me and then falling away as he sighed.

“It wasn't a big deal.” I said quietly, but I was unable to meet his stare.

“You didn't want to do it, did you?”

My head snapped towards him and it felt as though the blood was both draining from, and rushing to, my head, all at once. My stomach knotted, my throat tightening and I thought I might be sick. How had he caught onto that? Isaac hadn't seemed to catch my true feelings about the kiss – no, he in fact, had been keen to praise me for my great efforts. But Zac was more observant, and the way he stared at me, concerned, was what pushed my fingers into the blanket, twisting them as I fumbled for an answer.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I know you don't like Tegan that way.” Zac said quietly. “Why does Isaac make such a big deal out of it?”

“I don't know.” I sighed. “I don't even know if I don't like Tegan, Zac.” I didn't know where those words were coming from, but with the way I was struggling then with Isaac's prompts to flirt with Tegan, Isaac being proud of me for kissing her, it seemed like the right thing to say. Zac didn't have to know the entire truth, did he? I licked my lips as I stared at my lap.

“So you do like Tegan like that, or you don't? Why isn't it just a yes or a no?” Zac looked genuinely confused.

Just then, there was the sound of foot steps on the stairs. Zac and I had both grown silent, listening to the muffled sounds from outside. Our parents had gone to bed an hour ago, and I was sure it was Isaac, he was in a hurry.

“Tay?” Zac's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

“What? Sorry.” I blushed. “I... don't think I like Tegan like that, but, she's a great girl. So, maybe I should. I don't know.”

There was a few moments of silence between us, I could hear the soft pulls and sighs of his breathing.

“Tay?” Zac's voice was soft.

I looked towards him, but was quiet. Nothing needed to be said.

“I don't think you should like someone, just because someone else says you should. You should like whoever you want.”

He was right. But I hadn't been able to tell him that. I didn't want to give an eleven year old the satisfaction of being right about something so beyond his years. More deeply, it was that I didn't want to accept my baby brothers maturity. When had he stopped being a kid? He couldn't possibly be right, no matter how right it had felt. I had nothing to say to him, so I reached over and turned the lamp off, pitching the room into darkness. Zac got the hint and turned to the ladder, pulling himself up. He didn't say goodnight, and the room was deathly quiet, the sounds of our quiet breathing was the only thing to be heard. And then a thump from Isaac's room, I wasn't sure what he was doing. Headlights outside caught my eye, and then my eyes travelled to the full moon. I wondered if Zac was asleep yet. I laid very silently for several minutes until I heard the bed above me shift.

“Did I say something wrong?” Came a tiny voice.

I sighed. I couldn't lie to him. “No.” I mumbled.

“What?”

“No. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just not feeling very well.”

“I'm sorry, Tay.” He said quietly.

I felt guilty. “Don't be, Zac. You didn't do anything wrong. I just didn't want you to be right. I don't like Tegan.” I exhaled slowly as the last words slipped past my mouth.

It had felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, I had told him the truth, I had said it out loud. I didn't like Tegan. I also realized that I had nothing else to say to him, I couldn't think of a thing to utter into the silence that was building between us.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” I finally announced as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

“I'm going to sleep.” Zac mumbled.

It was a lie, I didn't really have to go, but I would pretend, to kill some time. I thought that washing my face would feel nice, and I'd brush my teeth, and with some luck, my brother would be asleep by the time I returned. I crept across the floor, hearing the boards squeak and groan beneath my steps and I pulled the door closed as gently as I could as I stepped out into the dim hall. A tiny night light plugged into the wall cast a pale yellow shadow in the direction of the bathroom, and I passed Isaac's closed door first. There was a soft light seeping from under the door, but I couldn't hear anything as I tiptoed by.

Closing myself in the bathroom, I remember turning on the sink and running the water hot. I pressed a soaked face cloth against my cheeks before reaching for some soap. My hair had gotten damp, so I pulled it into a pony tail after rinsing my face, and then reached for my tooth brush. I took my time, my mind wandering back to my eldest brother, and how I figured he was awake. I had just been honest with Zac, maybe it was the time to be honest with Isaac too, I had reasoned to myself. In theory, it had been a good idea.

In reality, it had been something else.

After brushing my knuckles against his closed door and getting no reply, I decided to just go in. He'd maybe dozed off, and I'd be able to turn his light off. I pushed the door open, and felt my stomach fall to my feet. He had certainly not been dozing off. A girl with dark chestnut hair and big brown eyes stared at me in horror, pulling Isaac's pale blue bed sheet up over her half naked body. He'd gotten her shirt off, and my eyes couldn't help but linger on her exposed flesh for the seconds before she managed to get herself covered up. I didn't know how I was supposed to feel, but I remember feeling as though boobs weren't the phenomenon that people made them out to be. That feeling wasn't the only thing unexpected or unrecognizable, I didn't recognize the girl, but I did know the look on Isaac's face perfectly well.

Rage

“Taylor!” He hissed. “What is your problem? I'm a little busy here.”

I sighed. “I'm sorry, Ike. I just wanted to talk. I didn't know she was here, and I bet mom and dad don't, either.” I couldn't help but throw the last words in, even though I had known it would paint me as the bratty younger brother to this mystery girl.

But I didn't care, I knew I was never going to see her again. I wondered just how many mystery girls he had snuck up here after our parents had surrendered to sleep and the house was still. I remember thinking that in forty two days, both of my brothers had changed in so very many ways.

“Get out of here, Tay. Go call your girlfriend or something.” Isaac had hissed back at me.

“She's not my girlfriend.” I mumbled and then bit down on my lip.

I didn't have the courage to wait for his reply, knowing I couldn't handle the sting of his words and I slipped out the door. My heart was speeding as I stepped into the hall, feeling relieved to be away from him, but still nervous as I took shaky steps back to my own room.

The sound of Zac's snoring was a welcome one, my shoulders relaxed and I felt myself exhale as I pulled back my comforter, the smell of fabric softener strong, it had just been washed. The mattress creaked under me, but Zac continued to snore, he had always been a heavy, heavy sleeper. I closed my eyes as my head sank back against the pillow, and I took deep breaths. It had been a long day, but I was trying hard to focus on nothing but the sound of the occasional car on the street outside, or the wind rustling leaves on one of the branches that stretched towards my window. I tried counting, making my way to almost two hundred before giving up. I rolled over, and then rolled back. It had been a long day, and I wanted nothing more than to dissolve into a black, dreamless sleep, but even that was evading me.

I ended up sleeping late the next morning, my body feeling heavy and my mouth felt dry as I rubbed at my eyes. The sun was already high in the sky, and I groaned as I read on the clock that it was well past ten o'clock. I had been surprised that my parents hadn't been in to drag me up, I was pushing Isaac habits, but not wanting to push those habits nor my luck, I hurried as I found fresh clothes for the day and laid them out before heading for the bathroom, knowing that I needed a fast, hot shower to wake myself up.

I didn't feel tired, physically, but my mind felt congested, still blocked up with the worries that had gathered themselves there the night before. I had hoped that the hot water would soothe me, relax me, but instead I just found it hard to breathe, and hastily turned the water off and dried myself off. I changed quickly in my room and as I stepped out, Isaac emerged from the bathroom.

Caramel coloured eyes, lighter than Zac's and glimmering playfully then, stared at me, and I paused, my hand still on my door knob.

“Morning, Tay.”

“Morning.” I replied quietly, starting to step away when Isaac cleared his throat.

“So, Tegan's not your girlfriend? Is that not what you said last night before running out of my room?” Isaac leaned against the wall and his eyes had locked on my face as I felt my skin burn beneath his heavy stare.

“No, she's not.” I swallowed.

“So, you're single?” Isaac's voice had changed now, picking up a more playfully curious tone instead of a dark one.

I hesitated before forming my reply to him. “Yes.” I finally said, very quietly. “Why?” I couldn't help but ask, feeling my stomach knot a little bit tighter with every moment that passed between us.

“Well, would you be interested in going on a blind date? A double date?”

“With who?”

“With me, and two very, very pretty girls.” The way Isaac smiled then reminded me a little of a Cheshire cat, all teeth and sparkling eyes.

It made me nervous, but I felt compelled to give it a chance, it would get him off my back. So much for the little bit of courage that I had been mustering to have a conversation with him. As it turned out, I reserved that courage for when I was with someone else.

“Don't worry, Tay.” Isaac smiled. “This girl is much more your type. I think I understand why Tegan didn't work out.” He mused.

What was he onto? I wondered to myself before taking a step closer to him. “What? What do you mean?” I needed to know.

“Well, Tegan's nice, but she's a bit of a tom boy... I think you need someone a little bit more... feminine. And don't worry, this girl is just what I think you'll like.”

Isaac was beaming as he stepped towards me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, in a way which I'm sure made him feel nice and proud as a big brother. He had no idea that he was all wrong, I really think he thought he was helping me by suggesting this date.

“This is it, this is your chance.” Isaac gave me an affectionate squeeze. “This will work out better, I promise.”

“What's her name?” I asked, wishing that I had the courage to ask him the other things that were plaguing my mind.

Why was Tegan's being a tom boy such a deal breaker? I thought that it was pretty impressive that she could whoop my ass at soccer, it gave us something to talk about and something to do together, I didn't know what I'd have in common with this girl that Isaac was so keen on me meeting. Most of the girls that he had brought home seemed pretty air headed and focused on material things. I didn't care much about shopping or fashion, and I doubted that those girls cared much about soccer. Tegan was sounding so much more compatible in contrast, and yet, it didn't change the way that I really felt deep down, the uncomfortable twist that haunted me every time I thought about being with a girl, it was as if I just didn't feel ready, it didn't feel quite right, I thought that it just needed time to work itself out, that seemed logical.

“Her name is Darcy, and I promise, she'll be much more your taste.”

I had wished that I felt just a fraction of the confidence that my brother possessed about this idea. But all I could think, was what the hell was I getting myself into? And just what, was this girl expecting?


	19. The Listener - 18

When I open my eyes, the sound of high pitched buzzing next to my ear immediately makes my stomach knot. Mosquitos. The warm and black night air was thick with them. My mouth feels dry, my body sore, and Zac's body suddenly seems heavy against my chest, and also, especially warm. Zac groans as he stirs, but he doesn't wake. I pull the blanket off of us and he stirs again, this time reaching for it.

“Tay.”

I sigh and then reach for his shoulder, trying to shake him awake. He needs to look at me, but he's being stubborn. He buries his face in my chest and tries again to reach for the blanket that I've pulled off. He groans and looks up at me, finally.

“The bugs are bad. We need to go in.” I tell him, slapping at a mosquito as it lands on my arm.

I can feel several little warm bumps on my skin, they'd already gotten to us.

“Ugh, I'm itchy.” Zac mumbles as he sits up, reaching down to scratch at his leg. “Really itchy.”

“Let's get in, then.” I say, pulling myself out from under his body, all monkey like with his floppy arms and legs.

Zac grunts as he stands up, pulling the blankets with him as I pick up the pillows. We scan the deck to make sure we've got everything and take to the stairs. We heave the blankets and pillows down onto the couch before going back outside to retrieve Zac's Cajun drum and my guitar case. We close and lock the door behind us and I look to Zac, whose scratching at his leg with a grimace on his face. Even in the dim light of the room, I can see a spattering of swollen red spots on my brothers body. We were both wearing only our underwear when we'd fallen asleep, a blanket pulled half around us, but clearly, left plenty exposed from the look of Zac's body. My own arms and legs had a few each, but nothing like Zac.

“Geez, Zac.” I mumble as I run my hand over his chewed up arm. “You got eaten alive.”

“Ugh. I know.” Zac groans. “Let's go to bed.”

I follow Zac down the darkness of the hall and climb into my side as he pulls the blanket back. The bed is cool, and the window is closed, the room is thankfully, wonderfully, bug free. It's also very dark and quiet, I had enjoyed the sounds of the lake outside, the rustle of the branches. Zac won't know if I turn the radio on, it's something I do sometimes, to occupy my mind and keep it from travelling to darker places, places that prevent me from sleep. I set the volume on low, the radio is already tuned to my favourite AM talk channel, and the over night show is always interesting. There's a lady who has called in, she's rambling about a UFO sighting, and I close my eyes as I rest my head on the pillow. Zac doesn't snuggle up, instead, he's scratching and rolling. It's rather distracting, and I try to focus on the sound of the radio show, quiet and soft, but it's being drowned out by the sound of fingernails scratching sharply on skin. The mattress creaks and sinks, my body is jostled a bit as Zac rolls himself over, and then rolls back. Soft groans and moans.

“Tayyy.”

I roll over to face him so he knows that I've heard him. I don't say anything, I just try to find his eyes in the darkness of the room, it's not as if he can my lips in the darkness anyway.

“I'm itchy.” He practically whimpers, sounding much more like a little boy than the grown man that had dominated me just hours before.

I sigh. I don't know what he wants me to do. I wonder if the bathroom has anything I can give him, calamine or aloe gel, something, anything will do at... I roll over and look at the clock. Quarter past four in the morning. I reach for the light and turn it on, blinking and trying to ignore the burn in my eyelids as the room is suddenly plunged into bright yellow light.

“I'll go check the bathroom.” I tell him, and he nods, rather pitifully before falling back against the pillow.

I sigh and resist rolling my eyes as I throw my tired legs over the bed. My body had been so close to slipping into sleep before he had started fussing, but, I remembered the plentiful bites on him. He had to be uncomfortable, and so, I began walking more quickly towards the bathroom. Inside of the bathroom, I pulled on the knobbed door of the medicine cabinet and felt my stomach knot as my eyes surveyed the contents. A bottle of Aspirin tablets, a half empty box of bandaids and a couple of Spider Man bandaids, loose and dusty. Zac had insisted on buying the novelty band aids several years ago, now. I was surprised that a couple were still kicking around. As adorable as the band aids seemed, however, they were no good for mosquito bites, and as I finished scanning each of the three cabinets, I realized, with a sinking feeling of dread, that there was nothing that was going to help him. I sighed, pushing the door closed and looked around the bathroom, as if some magical item may appear. No luck, however, and I knew I had to make my way back to the bedroom, empty handed.

“Nothing?” Zac looks practically heartbroken as his dark eyes study my empty hands.

I shake my head. “I'm sorry, Zac. We'll get something first thing in the morning, okay?”

Zac just sighs, rolling over and I reach for the knob on the radio, turning it up as I flick off the light. Plunged into darkness, I try to relax, but Zac is sighing and scratching. I take deep breaths, trying to focus on the radio and not on the sounds of my brother making a fuss. Eventually, my fatigue wins me over, and I slip into a light sleep, only to be awoken to the sound of some crashing, or rather, some things crashing, it sounded like a few.

Sitting straight up in bed, my heart feels like it's racing as I glance at the clock. I'd fallen asleep for only half an hour or so. On the other side of me, the bed was empty, and I knew at once where the next crashing noise I heard, was coming from. With a groan, I turned the light on and then got up, heading for the bathroom where I could hear the sounds of things being pushed around.

“Zac?” I try not to yelp as I look up the tiny flight of stairs to the bathroom and can see the mess of bottles and containers scattered on the ground, it's like a bomb has exploded in the tiny room.

He doesn't hear me of course, when I speak, but his head turns to me, his cheeks flushed as he the stairs shake beneath my steps as I climb up. I can't look at him right away, my eyes move from the old glass bottle of rubbing alcohol, cracked and leaking sharp smelling liquid onto the green bath rug. The bottle of Aspirin is next to the toilet, the box of Q-tips has tumbled down and opened, sending several of the cotton ended sticks scattered across the room. And Zac is standing in the middle of it, looking innocent as he very slowly closes the cabinet door.

“I was just looking for something to stop the itching.” He says very quietly, cheeks dark pink and growing darker as his eyes sweep over the mess, seeming to only realize now just what he's really done.

I sigh. He was in one of his moods, a dark place that my brother slips into when he's in a hurry, or cranky, or in this case, both. In silence, his mind seems to hyper focus on things, and he becomes oblivious to anything outside his task as he races through it. He wouldn't have heard the glass breaking, he wouldn't have noticed much of anything, except for the fact that the cabinet was painfully devoid of anything that would soothe his itching. It was now painfully devoid of almost anything, scattered across the sink and floor instead.

“I'll clean it up.” Zac mumbles.

“I'll get changed. We'll drive into town, there's a twenty four hour pharmacy.”

Zac's thick lips pull into a tiny smile. “Thanks, Tay. I'm sorry for waking you up.”

I take a few steps towards him, dodging a tube of tooth paste and the Q-tip box. Leaning close to him, I brush my mouth quickly against his.

“Don't worry about it. We'll get you taken care of.”

Just as usual.

In less than fifteen minutes, both of us have changed into clothes that are comfortable without being too slobby, but what's to be expected at... I glance at the clock on the stove while I wait for Zac to finish in the bathroom...five in the morning. Zac appears again and things are quiet as we put our shoes on. The sky is beginning to lighten up, it's a dark, dark lavender above us as we make our way to the SUV. I yawn as I push the keys into the ignition, glancing over at Zac quickly to ensure he's fastened his seat belt, before starting up the hill.

The drive is a quiet one, I flick the radio on and listen to a soft rock station that is doing it's best to wake me up with an overly cheerful Sheryl Crow song, but I can't suppress a fourth yawn as I make the last turn before we hit the small town. The drug store is on the left, and I'm thankful though not overly surprised, to find that the parking lot is mostly empty. Zac follows me into the store, and I pick up one of the red shopping baskets next to the door.

“We need Calamine and some Anti-histamine pills.” I tell Zac, holding his attention for a moment as we try and navigate the store.

When we saunter into the correct aisle for the first item on our short list, I start leaning over, scanning the shelves. I lick my lips as I look at the prices before picking one up.

“Here.” I show it to Zac and he nods before covering his mouth, yawning himself.

My body feels heavy and achy as we trudge towards the aisle of allergy pills, and I pick up the first bottle of anti-histamine pills that I find. Zac follows behind me as we head towards the cash, there's a middle aged woman with dyed ginger coloured hair checking out several items, using coupons. I groan. It's the only register open and I can see the lines in Zac's face adjust as he settles his eyes on her. There's nothing we can do, I rationalize as we step into line. Zac's eyes flick towards the items on the conveyer belt, I can't help but notice how many of these items are tins of cat food. Zac's eyes flick towards me, a playful glimmer and the corner of his mouth twitches. Oh no. He's up to something. I watch as his eyes move back to the belt.

“There's like, forty three cans of cat food there.” Zac whispers in what he thinks is a quiet voice, but it's not, at all, and everyone, the ginger haired cat lady and the young guy, about my age if I had to guess, all stared at my brother and I.

“I like cats.” I quickly say. “You must be getting a good deal?” My heart is racing as I blurt out the first words that come to mind.

By some miracle, the lady just smiles and nods. “Twenty five cents a can. Do you need some coupons?”

“Yes, we do.” Zac blurts out, and my eyes dart towards him, my cheeks burning.

We don't have a god damn cat, but he's smiling like a jack ass as he steps forward and takes the coupons. The woman seems none the wiser, but I hear the soft sound of laughter and my eyes move towards the cashier. His sparkling dark blue eyes find mine and his cheeks are a bit pink as he looks away quickly. I feel nervous, I have to admit, he's pretty cute, with his brown hair, just past his ears pulled into a neat pony tail. He has a wide smile, with a playful crook to it that sort of matches his eyebrows. There's a faint shadow of stubble over his jaw, he's pretty, but a little dishevelled and I find myself feeling nervous as my eyes roam over him for a moment longer before I felt my heart stop. He smiles at me quickly, he'd caught me staring. Oh god. My blood feels like it's running cold now. I look away, feeling his eyes follow me, so I can't help it, I summon all of the courage I can and give him a shy smile. Behind me, I heard the sound of Zac clearing his throat.

Shit. Now I'm really panicking. How much of that had he seen? I thought, my mind racing with panic. I felt my stomach twist in a nauseating, sickening way as I remembered just how observant my deaf brother could be.

“I need to get something. I'll be right back.” Zac chirps, his hand touching my shoulder and his brown eyes looking to mine as I try to read his expression.

I'm stumped. I simply nod to him before turning back towards the cashier, watching absentmindedly as he punches numbers into the pad for each coupon. He's more than halfway through the mountain of them now, I hope that Zac is quick. Beep. Beep. Beep. The sounds are becoming methodical and my mind has been spinning so fast that it's growing tired and my eyes feel heavier. Beep. Beep. Beep. I stifle a yawn and lean against the counter.

Suddenly, I hear the cashier's deep voice and my focus comes back 'round. He's giving the ginger cat lady her total and I look around, still no sign of Zac. I'm going to be annoyed if I get stuck in an awkward silence with... My eyes wander to the name tag on his chest. Dean. Dean is bagging up the cat lady's dozens of cans when I hear a rush of foot steps behind me and turn around to see a red faced Zac. He'd been hurrying. And his smile is much, much too big for.. what's nearly five thirty am, now. The sun is starting to rise outside, but it still feels like the middle of the night to me. My eyes move to Zac's hands, he's clutching a tube of something...

Oh god.

It's a tube of flavoured lubricant. I can't see what variety, but I can see the smirk on his face as he tosses it onto the conveyer belt with the calamine and antihistamine tablets. What a collection of items we have, and I can feel my blood boiling, my skin flushing with a deep, deep red blush as I hear the first beep of the scanner. The tablets. I look to Zac as Dean picks up the calamine. Beep.

Zac just smiles innocently. “I think we're out, thanks to last night.”

And at that point, Dean full out chuckles, and I'm mortified. Of course, Zac is none the wiser, and he just smiles between Dean and I as I wish the floor would swallow me up. Zac has almost no filter, he has no shame, it keeps him from being embarrassed in a situation like this, and of course, his blissful lack of hearing comes in handy. But for me, Dean's soft laughter felt like it was so loud the entire state would hear.

Dean clears his throat. “Um, your total is $19.56.”

My hands are shaking as I pull my wallet out of my pocket, still unable to meet the blue eyes of the cashier, who Zac is having no trouble smiling confidently at. He's quite proud of himself, and I think now, that that was the whole idea. I lick my lips as I hand Dean a twenty dollar bill and then look to Zac.

“Flavoured?” I mouth silently to him.

Zac bats his eyelashes quickly at me. “But it's marshmallow, Tay. Marshmallow.” He insists, as if repeating it, making it sound like it's the holy grail of artificially flavoured treats will make me realize how desperately we absolutely needed marshmallow flavoured lube.

We weren't even out of lube. He'd said it all to make a show. I was sure that Zac couldn't have used the rest of the bottle last night, I had been tight, but I hadn't been half a bottle of lube - tight. There's another chuckle from Dean now and I feel my hand shaking as he drops a few coins into my palm, not even trying to keep a straight face, and then hands me a plastic bag and my receipt.

“You boys have another good night.” Dean smirks in this way that makes my skin burn hot one more time.

Zac of course, doesn't hear that either, and he's grinning ear to ear like a jackass as we walk out of the store. I feel like the next time we need something from the drug store, we'll be driving to the other side of town to visit the other one.


	20. The Listener - 19

Darcy had been everything that I had expected her to be – and then some more. And by more, I mean the cleavage that spilled out of the top of her low cut shirt was like sprinkles on an already, very rich cake. At least, she'd be delicious if your opinion was that of Isaac Hanson. My brother. Whose eyes barely left her body from the moment she showed up on our door step with a second girl, Emma, who happened to be Isaac's date. Out of the two, Darcy was probably the sexier one, with her dark wavy hair and coffee with milk coloured skin. She had exotic dark eyes, rimmed with thick black eyeliner, and she looked much older than fourteen. In fact, she was seventeen, Isaac had indulged me later. Isaac's date looked closer to my age, but also happened to be seventeen – the girls were friends. Isaac had met Emma while he was out for pizza with friends, and she was pretty, petite and blonde with light blue eyes. I distinctly remember feeling a tinge of guilt for her, Isaac couldn't take his eyes off of the girl that happened to be my date, and she must have felt at least a little put out.

She ended up playing as a good sport though, and as we drove – Darcy behind the wheel of her expensive, red sports car, Emma was able to capture Isaac's attention with a review of an Isaac Asimov book she had read. I wondered if Darcy had read anything good lately, I considered asking her, but as she turned up the knob on the bubble-gum pop blasting station we were listening to, I decided against it. Darcy wasn't the type of girl that liked books.

I was initially surprised when we pulled into the parking lot of a small cinema called The Red Door across town, it was a retro style theatre with only two screens. It wasn't long before I figured out the rationale though. The lines were incredibly short, the lobby was pretty uninhabited, but we picked a horror movie and Ike and I paid for the tickets while the girls hung on our arms. We practically had the place to ourselves, I realized, as we picked seats in the back row.

“Who wants popcorn?” I had asked, growing a little anxious when silence hung between Darcy and I in the dark room.

“No thanks.” Isaac shook his head, and Emma also shook hers.

“I'll come with you.” Darcy volunteered and I tried to feign some excitement in a fake smile as she followed me towards the back door.

As we stepped out, she reached for my hand and I felt my heart speed up as her fingers wrapped around mine. There was no one to see us, but I dug into my pocket to break the hold as we made it to the concession stand.

“Do you want anything?” I asked her, feeling my cheeks burn.

“A small diet coke.”

Why was I not surprised? I remembered thinking to myself. I asked the young guy working behind the counter for two small cokes, one regular, one diet, and a small popcorn. Something to munch on would give me something to occupy my mind, I reasoned, as I handed a couple of bills across the counter. Darcy stuck her arm into mine instead of holding my hand as we walked back to the theatre, where I would find Isaac and Emma... rather pre-occupied.

Isaac's head popped up from the kiss as I made a little too much noise sitting down, and he looked at me, and the popcorn, and then gave me a skeptical look. I tried to push down the knots in my stomach as Darcy leaned close to me in the darkness of the practically empty room, waiting for the previews to start.

A hand on my thigh snapped me out of my thoughts and when I looked over, Darcy was staring at me, rather intently.

“How's your popcorn?” She whispered, her hand sliding hider.

I opened my lips, but felt myself short of not only words, but breath, too. My heart was pounding, my mind spinning, she was leaning closer and the room felt so hot that I might melt. I swallowed and sucked in a short breath, finally. “It's fine.” I said quietly.

“Mind if I have a taste?”

She had leaned in closer, and I had started pushing the bucket of popcorn towards her when she reached for my shirt, tugging me closer to her. Everything happened so fast, a rush of motions punctuated by a gasp by me as she pressed her mouth against mine. I was so taken aback that I just sat there for a moment, which she mistook as being into it, and I felt the wetness of her tongue against my mouth. It was not at all sensual the way people – especially Isaac – bragged that french kissing was, it was just slobbery and gross, and I felt like I might actually throw up when I heard the sound of the movie starting.

Thank god!

I jerked my head back. “Movie's starting.” I whispered to her in the darkness.

The noise had garnished not only a nod from her, but had also gathered the attention of Isaac and Emma, who stared at us, curiously, with Isaac wearing this really cheesy grin. The I told you so smile. He had been much more impressed by the kiss than I had been... A tiny part of me felt relieved at that moment that he might actually get off my back. Little did I know that the night was only going to get worse, and my feelings would be made known.

Darcy gave me this really big smile and I try to smile back, but my entire face feels numb while the rest of me is pins and needles. My knees were shaking as I settled back into the chair and took a couple deep breaths. It's all over now I remember saying to myself as the previews rolled, one after another and all becoming one. By the time the movie credits were playing, I had actually began to feel better and had reached for my drink. The movie started playing, and thankfully, for awhile, everything seemed... normal.

And then things got bloody.

And by bloody, I mean the movie, don't worry. My own blood, however, began to race again, coming from my pounding heart, not out of fear for the movie, but nerves from what was happening in real life. The movie was having an effect on the girls... Isaac had his arm wrapped quite protectively around Emma, who sheepishly buried her face in his shoulder every time something the slightest bit frightening happened. On my right side, Darcy whimpered in a way that sounded pathetic to me and I spared a glance towards her. She gave me the 'puppy eyes' and I didn't know what to do except wrap an arm around her. Obviously pleased, she wasted no time in snuggling up against my chest in the same fashion that Emma had to Ike. The only difference, really, was the fact that Isaac was having the time of his life, and I... well, I wished I was anywhere else, doing anything but this. If I could have really been selfish, I'd have said I'd like to be somewhere alone. I held her, feeling rather awkward about it, but Darcy had no qualms what so ever about my stiff body or my shallow breathing. In fact, as the movie progressed, her neediness did as well, and soon, I could feel her breath on my neck. She pushed her body closer, and I felt myself begin to warm up. Not out of arousal, but out of nervousness. I felt a gentle touch against my neck, and tried to ignore it, hoping I had just imagined it. But then, there was another one. Darcy made this tiny, squeaky, moan-y noise that I bet Isaac would have cum in his pants for, but I felt something more akin to nausea as she pressed one after another until finally, the wetness of her tongue against my ear and I jumped out of the seat, unable to take it anymore. Like a pot that had boiled over, I looked at her, trying to catch my breath and trying to think of something, anything to say.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

It was exactly the same excuse that I had used to flee my own bedroom under the scrutiny of my youngest brother, just the night before. This time, the reaction was a little different, though. Darcy stared at me like a deer in headlights, and as I made a quick turn for the door, I heard whispering from behind me, a soft chuckle. Isaac, Emma and Darcy were all watching me, and though it was only three sets of eyes, it was as if I could feel the weight of the entire world watching me as I crept towards the door. I felt like I could breathe again as the heavy door slammed behind me, and I glanced around the still empty lobby, realizing my place of sanctuary was still the dingy theatre. It just felt so much better to feel in control again. But once escaped, I still knew that I had nowhere to go, except for out.

The night was cool, but my body was still warm, and the soft breeze felt good against my flushed skin. I had initially decided to walk a few blocks before calling for a taxi, but as I passed store after store in the lonely Tulsa street, I decided to just keep going. The night was calm and cool, and despite the frenzy that was probably happening in the theatre that I had abandoned – Darcy wondering where I had gone, and Isaac trying to think of something to cover his ass, I was surprisingly serene. I had seemed to know that as long as I wasn't at home, I didn't need to face any of those troubles, and so I just kept walking, and walking. When I did arrive home, I knew that Isaac would probably be waiting, red faced with fury and with one hundred and one nasty things to say to me. My curious younger brother would try in vain to take my side, the way he always did, and as it felt more and more lately, it would only serve as a nuisance. I didn't want to deal with any of it, and I took my time walking down street after street, the night sky growing darker and darker above me until it was completely inky black. Stars dotted the sky, but they were outside my awareness, I was existing in my own little world, and nothing else mattered until I finally turned onto my street.

My legs were a little sore, having walked for just over an hour, but my mind was more clear than it had felt in days. I felt guilty about what I had done to Darcy, but I didn't feel guilty for not having feelings for her. I had spent quite a bit of my walk doing an analyzation of her, much the way I had wracked my mind for reasons that I didn't like Tegan. While it was hard to scrape up rational reasons for a girl like Tegan, it felt much easier for Darcy. Sure, she was pretty, but nothing else about her, was remotely interesting to me. I had learned that her hobbies were shopping and sneaking alcohol on weekends with her friends. She probably couldn't tell an A from a C or even kick a soccer ball five feet, let alone score a goal. I didn't like the way she had pushed herself on me, even though most guys most likely wouldn't turn the attention down, I still felt weird about having it shoved on me, without so much as my opinion being asked on the matter. I took a deep breath as I stepped onto the doorstep and then pulled my key out of my pocket.

I had made it home. I couldn't hide for any longer.

And as expected, there was a storm waiting for me. Isaac and Zac were both seated on the couch, and each of their faces painted a different version of relief when I stepped inside. Zac's eyes were wide with worry as he stared at me, something like sympathy etched on his features. His face was the one that made me nervous first. And then I looked to Isaac. There was a sly looking smirk that I didn't trust, and one brow raised.

“So. Did you get lost on your way to the bathroom?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Zac, go up to bed.” Isaac looked to my younger brother.

“Why?”

“Because your brother and I have to have a talk.” Isaac replied, rolling his eyes. “A grown up talk.”

Zac's brows furrowed and he folded his arms, staring stubbornly back at Isaac. “I don't have to do what you tell me to.”

“Yeah, well, it's past your bed time already by an hour, unless you want me to wake mom and dad up, who will be happy to escort you to bed, I suggest you get moving.”

I had felt my stomach twist in sympathy for Zac. Isaac could be so unreasonable sometimes. I knew that he didn't need to hear the conversation, even though a small part of me wished he could stay, knowing he'd take my side. A bigger part of me didn't want him to know what I'd done tonight. I was barely accepting the fact that dating girls wasn't going as planned, without having a barrage of eleven year old style questions. The couch shifted as Zac pushed himself up before taking to the stairs, not without mumbling a string of things about Isaac under his breath as he went.

“So. You finally get a real kiss, and you run away. You really are chicken, aren't you?” Isaac sneered, his brown eyes moving towards me.

“I guess so.” I mumbled. “I don't think Darcy is my type.”

“How can she not be your type?” Isaac asked, incredulous. “What's not to like?”

“Well, she doesn't really have any interests... she just likes to shop, and drink.”

“Who needs interests when you have tits like she does? Seriously, Taylor?” Isaac asked, still shaking his head.

He couldn't seem to wrap his head around the notion that I was just really not that into her. I wasn't into her exotic dark eyes or her caramel coloured skin. I didn't care for her cloying perfume or her flashy, but fake, jewellery. Her shiny, glossed lips that tasted like raspberries didn't impress me, and unlike my eldest brother, her boobs were probably the farthest thing from my mind. Between the look on his face and the silence between us, growing thicker with each moment and surrounding me in fear, I had begun to wonder again, how messed up I really was. I was used to trusting Isaac, but something about this, just didn't feel right, inside. There was more to it, I just couldn't find a way to describe it.

“I mean, she's a ten. You can't tell me that you don't think she's hot.” Isaac asked.

“Well, if you think she's so hot, she's all yours.” I said, unsure even now, where those words came from, but out they came, floating between us, and Isaac was silent for a moment.

And then two moments, and a few more slipped by. I took a breath, feeling my confidence seeping back, slowly. There was a tiny voice within me, telling me to stand my ground, that I wasn't wrong, that I didn't have to be into someone just because someone else told me I had to be. My mind moved to Zac. My kid brothers advice, offered up in the dark with modesty and a side of brother jerk-ey. I looked at Isaac and raised my brows.

“Are we done?” I asked Isaac. “You shouldn't be complaining, you get the girl that you really wanted. She's all yours, if she's so great.”

Again, the words came from nowhere, surprising me with each one, but I remember that I wasn't afraid.

“All I'm saying, Taylor.” Isaac said, as he took a step towards me. “Is that the only way a guy could not be into Darcy, is if he's gay.” He shrugged, and stared at me.

Gay.

Gay.

The warmth of the confidence that had trickled into me, just seconds before, had flooded out. I stared at Isaac for a minute, biting down on my lip.

“Just because I don't like sluts.” I started, feeling a shake to my voice, my nerves were absolutely shot by then. “Does not mean I'm gay.”

And Isaac just said nothing.


End file.
